


"Re-Forestation"

by DPPatricks



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-10 20:44:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 38,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7860460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DPPatricks/pseuds/DPPatricks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six years after being sent to prison, Ben Forest has escaped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hand wrote the kernel of this story on one loose leaf notebook page in 1976 and have finally, after almost forty years and then nearly a year of writing, re-writing and re-re-writing, gotten around to filling in the other 130+ pages. My sincere gratitude to Wightfaerie for her excellent beta read/edits. If mistakes and poor writing still exist, they’re my fault entirely.
> 
> This story has now (9/11/17) been re-edited and re-written, again, although the UPDATE doesn't seem to have changed. I hope anyone who's read it once will give it another try. Hopefully, it's better now. Thanks!

Detective Ken Hutchinson rummaged through the belly drawer of his desk. “Have you seen my White-Out, Starsk?” Frustration tinged his normally calm voice.

“Uh…” Detective David Starsky uttered the non-word, guilt written on his expressive face. Sheepishly, he extended a hand containing a small bottle.

With a resigned sigh, Hutch stood up, took the container and sat back down. He turned to his typewriter, attempting to maintain a disgusted demeanor.

“Sorry.” Starsky hunched his shoulders. “I borrowed it yesterday, when mine ran out. Forgot to tell you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Hutch cocked an eyebrow at his best friend. “You’ll requisition a new one, right?”

“Already did.” Starsky looked appropriately repentant. “I’m sure Elliot will have it on his cart when he shows up today.”

“If he shows up today.” Hutch glanced at his watch. “Mail should have been here half an hour ago.”

Starsky looked at him curiously. “Expecting something?” 

“I sent away for a catalog from that new police protective gear company.” He fixed the mistake on his report. “Should’ve been here by now.”

“Hutch,” said Starsky, sounding confused. “When we need that stuff, we get it from Property.”

“When we need it,” Hutch repeated. “What about all the times we go out there not realizing we’re _going_ to need it?” He looked across at Starsky, not wanting his partner to see his vulnerability but unable to hide it. “If you’d been wearing a vest that morning… maybe…”

Starsky, clearly not needing ‘that morning’ specified, swallowed. “Maybe.” 

“Besides…” Hutch countered his own seriousness with a raised shoulder and a guileless look, “it’s only a catalog.” 

Behind Starsky, Captain Harold Dobey opened his office door. “Starsky, Hutchinson…” Hutch thought the voice sounded tight but not angry. “My office.” He turned around and headed toward his desk, leaving the door open.

Shrugging a lack of knowledge at Starsky and receiving a similar gesture in return, Hutch got up. He pushed his typewriter table aside and walked to the office door, Starsky one step ahead of him.

“You want to see us, Cap?” Starsky used a non-flippant tone.

Hutch followed his partner into the office, closing the door behind him. He took the far guest chair while Starsky went to the water cooler. Starsky drew a cup of water, drank half, and took the rest back to Hutch before sitting down in the second chair. 

Dobey laced his fingers on top of the mound of folders on his desk, plainly trying to give the impression of casual informality. 

Hutch drank the water, crushed the cup and tossed it, ‘no net,’ into the waste basket. He grinned at his partner.

“What’s up?” Starsky’s curiosity was thinly masked.

“I want you two to take some time off.” Dobey’s expression was neutral. Only his tightly clenched hands betrayed tension.

Hutch glanced at Starsky and the look on his partner’s face mirrored his own surprise.

“You’ve had cases on top of each other,” Dobey continued, maintaining the outward show of normalcy, “ever since Starsky came back on full duty.” He looked intently at Starsky, then Hutch. “Neither of you is getting any younger.”

“You’re as young as you feel, Cap,” Starsky quipped. “You know that. Personally?” He smiled at Hutch, then Dobey. “I never felt better!”

Dobey glared.

“What’s really going on, Cap’n?” Hutch kept his tone level, knowing that something was up but having no idea what.

“You won’t just get out of town for a few days?” Dobey attempted to look hopeful. “A week at the most.”

“Not a chance, sir.” Starsky folded his arms.

“At least…” Hutch added, “not until you tell us what’s happened that makes you want us to leave.”

It was obvious to Hutch that their captain didn’t have a secondary plan if his initial request failed. After a long silence, Dobey slumped back, lacing his fingers across his ample stomach. “Ben Forest has escaped.”

“How?” Hutch’s sharp query overlapped Starsky’s “When?” 

“Two weeks ago.” Anger overrode Dobey’s forced calm. “He changed places with an inmate who was due for release and walked out.”

“And we’re only finding out about it now, because…?” Starsky’s voice was fraught with sarcasm.

“Because,” Dobey replied, heavily, “it wasn’t discovered until yesterday.”

“Do they know how he managed it?” Hutch made sure the question sounded reasonable and tried to keep his tone level. He could already feel the fear, helplessness and humiliation beginning to creep out from under the years of suppression he had stringently imposed. 

“With the help of two guards and a prisoner.” Dobey sat forward and opened a folder. “These faxes came in this morning with the basics. I’ve just gotten off the phone with the warden and the sheriff up there. They filled in the details.” He flipped through the pages and Hutch could see Dobey’s notes in the margins with some heavy underlining. 

When the captain didn’t continue right away, Hutch bent forward, leaning his elbows on his knees. He could feel the tension radiating off his partner but sincerely hoped he was hiding his own growing uneasiness. 

Dobey looked up, sadness and compassion in his expression. “A guard named Pete Petersen has a mother who’s been gravely ill. Forest’s lawyers discovered that her medical insurance was going to run out. They told him they’d pay all her expenses until she either got better, or died.”

“In exchange for…?” Hutch asked.

“Helping Forest escape.”

“Terrific,” Starsky muttered.

“And that’s where he made his first mistake.” Dobey had an edge in his tone again. “He didn’t report the attempted bribe to the warden. He thought about it instead and then talked to his wife.”

“When was all this?” Starsky asked.

“Six months ago, according to Petersen’s statement. His mother was beginning to get better but they didn’t have the money to continue her treatments.” Dobey got up and went to the water cooler, drank the first cup and drew a second before sitting back down. 

Hutch forced himself to wait and was grateful that his partner had evidently taken a patience pill that morning. 

“No money changed hands when Petersen agreed to the deal,” Dobey scanned his information again, “but his mother’s medical procedures continued and she kept improving.” He looked up, understanding in his eyes. “By that time it was too late to back out.”

“Obviously.” Hutch’s voice was more strained than he intended. He knew Starsky was looking at him but he didn’t return the gaze. 

“Petersen helped the lawyers find another guard they could influence. This one, Jeff Graham, had gone through an ugly divorce. His wife’s attorney had convinced a judge to grant her full custody of their two children and giving her half their possessions. Most of Graham’s salary was attached for alimony and child support, as well.”

“Harsh,” Starsky said. 

“According to Petersen…” Dobey checked his notes, “Graham was afraid he’d never see his kids again.”

“He won’t for a long time now, that’s for sure.” Starsky shook his head. “Idiot.”

“Enter Forest’s lawyers?” Hutch prompted.

Dobey nodded. “They told Graham they’d go to bat for him. Said they’d get the alimony reduced and the custody changed to fifty-fifty.”

“And did they?” Hutch stared at his hands, not needing an answer.

“They did.” 

Hutch could tell from the tone of Dobey’s voice and his unconcealed tension that he was having almost as difficult a time with all this as Hutch was. Absently, he wondered why. Dobey knew what Forest had done to Hutch, of course, but he was never directly involved. This should be a simple prison break for him but, somehow, Hutch didn’t think it was.

“Graham couldn’t turn them down after that,” Starsky noted.

“No, he couldn’t,” Dobey agreed. “Graham worked with Petersen and the lawyers to find an inmate who was due to be released.”

Hutch finally met his partner’s eyes, but there were no words.

“They found Gerald Swan.” Dobey read from another sheet. “This guy had been convicted of his wife’s murder and had served twenty-three years of a life sentence.” He looked up at Hutch, then Starsky, and there was remorse in his eyes. “Turns out he was as innocent as he’d always said.”

“How did they find out?” Starsky asked.

“The real killer,” Dobey explained, “the wife’s brother, confessed. He had cancer and was dying. He said he’d killed his sister because she threatened to go to the cops about his drug dealing. He set his brother-in-law up and watched him take the fall. Never breathed a word to anybody.”

“Deathbed confessions are suspect, aren’t they, Capt’n?” Hutch was grasping at straws.

“In some cases. Not this one though. Everything he told police, before he died, was confirmed. Plus, it agreed in every detail with what Swan had always vowed.”

“The state had to turn him loose.” Still shaking his head, Starsky sat back in his chair.

“Exactly.” Dobey shuffled more pages. “Forest’s lawyers got wind of the screwed up mess and had Petersen and Graham approach Swan with a deal.”

“Which he must have agreed to.” Starsky was plainly keeping a tight rein on his aggravation.

“He did.” Dobey folded his hands again. “Two weeks ago, a man everybody up there thought was Gerald Swan, walked out of prison, a free man.”

“And nobody recognized him as Forest?” Hutch’s throat was so tight he could barely get the words out.

Starsky scooted forward, put a gentle hand on his knee, and left it there. 

Dobey glanced up but didn’t say a word. “Forest had been in the high security wing, ever since his last escape attempt two years ago. He had direct contact with only his lawyers and the two guards who served his meals and alternated shifts when he had his hour a day in the exercise yard.”

“Lemme guess.” Starsky’s expression was heavy with irony. “The two guards were Petersen and Graham.”

Again, Dobey nodded. “At different times each of them had managed to get transferred to Forest’s wing.”

Hutch clenched his hands tighter. “Nothing suspicious in that.” 

“Absolutely nothing.” Dobey could barely contain his own sarcasm now. “Guards transferred around the prison all the time. The corrections board thought it would keep them from getting burned out, or too close to a particular inmate.”

“Swan’s still there?” Hutch asked.

“Yes. In Forest’s old cell.”

“If this whole thing has been so much under everybody’s radar,” Starsky wondered out loud, “how did they discover it?” 

“Petersen confessed.” Dobey looked through his faxes again. “Said he couldn’t live with himself any longer. Even his mother’s improving condition wouldn’t let him sleep nights. He’d done research into Forest’s background and learned the true character of the man he’d helped escape. He told the warden and the sheriff everything yesterday.”

“Too bad he didn’t have his attack of conscience a lot sooner.” Starsky patted Hutch’s knee once before removing his hand.

“Needless, too, as it turns out.” Dobey drank the rest of his water. “The escape was going to be uncovered soon anyway.”

Hutch didn’t ask the obvious question and neither did Starsky.

“The whole prison I.D. system is being computerized,” Dobey explained. “Forest’s high security wing was the last section.”

Starsky sat up straight. “He had to get out before then. He had a deadline.”

“He sure did.” Dobey shuffled papers. “Petersen knew about it, of course. He could simply have kept his mouth shut and waited until he was confronted. Or quit his job and run. But he didn’t.”

“Difficult to quit and run,” Starsky said, “when you’ve got a wife and sick mother depending on you.”

“What does Swan have to say?” Hutch asked. “He’s on the hook now for aiding and abetting.”

“He doesn’t seem to care. The lawyers have fixed him up with an account in the Caymans. It got an initial deposit two months ago of one hundred thousand dollars. He was promised another hundred grand a year for as long as he had to remain in prison. He’s quoted as saying…” Dobey found another sheet of paper. “‘I got nothing to go home to so I might as well stay here. And be rich when I do get out.’”

“I still can’t believe nobody saw Forest leave!” Starsky got up and began to pace.

“Sixteen inmates were released that day, Starsky!” Dobey’s voice betrayed a sense of defeat along with his ire. “Dressed in shabby, donated clothing, wearing a pair of sunglasses one of his lawyers probably gave him, he could have been anybody.” He passed a blowup of a dozen frames from a surveillance camera’s footage to Hutch.

Hutch studied it as Starsky sat down on the arm of his chair leaned over his shoulder. The image showed a nondescript man walking through the prison’s gates. The figure could have been almost anybody. Only Hutch’s knowledge of Forest allowed him to recognize the drug lord. He gave the page back to Dobey and looked up at his partner. “The captain’s right, Starsk. As meticulously as this was planned, it’s no wonder it went off without a hitch.”

“You think he’ll come looking for us?” Starsky asked Dobey.

“I’m not willing to take the chance. I don’t have enough officers to protect you. I need you out of town! Tonight.”

“Wouldn’t he already be gone, Captain? He’s had two weeks.” Again, Hutch made sure his voice was level and controlled. “His drug contacts were in South America. He practically had a ‘Get Out Of Jail Free’ card down there. It’s likely that he’s already skipped the country.”

“I almost hope so, Hutchinson! And when I find out where he is, wherever he is, I’ll go and get the bastard myself. Extradition treaty or no extradition treaty.”

“We can help.” Starsky got up and leaned on the desk. “His lawyers, Shyster and Loosley, they -- ”

“Shuster and Leslie,” Hutch corrected, hiding a tight smile.

“Right. How could I forget?” Starsky’s embarrassment was unconvincing. 

“Knock it off, you two!” Dobey was definitely not in the mood for jokes. “You are both going up to my cabin until I can get more information.”

The color drained from Starsky’s face and he sat down in his own chair. 

Hutch almost laughed. “Uh, Cap’n, I think Starsky’d rather go somewhere else.”

“Yeah, Cap, _anywhere_ else?”

Dobey appeared surprised at the interruption of his train of thought. When he realized what was causing Starsky’s disquiet, he let out a sigh. “Grow up, Starsky! Those Satanists are gone. You testified at the trials, you know they won’t be sacrificing virgins, or causing any other kind of trouble for a long time.”

Hutch appreciated Dobey’s being able to dredge up a sense of humor in the face of Forest’s disappearing act. “I’m sure the good people of Pine Lake will greet us with open arms, Starsk.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Starsky muttered. 

“You won’t even recognize the place,” Dobey went on, “it’s changed so much since your little adventure. The main street in town’s been paved. The county widened and graded the road to the cabin, and even cut it on up over the ridge.” He gestured expansively. “Opened up lots of new home sites, wealthy retired folks moving in. Carol and Tom Bailey, from right here in Bay City, are neighbors. They’re good people.”

“I’m sure,” said Starsky, but he was still scowling.

“You both told me you were impressed with Charlie Ward, the sheriff up there,” Dobey reminded them. 

“I guess so.” Starsky seemed to be accepting the situation. 

“He’s engaged to the new owner of the general store, isn’t he, Captain?” Hutch was anxious to distract himself as well as support Dobey at the same time. “I think we met them, too.”

Dobey nodded. “Jane Coopersmith. She and her brother, Herman, took it over from Mrs. Tyce when Joe moved his family up to Red Bluff.” Dobey straightened and stacked the files on his desk. “Herman added a couple of rooms above the store and built a few small lodges in back. They rent them to hunters, hikers, and tourists, plus people who want to get out of the city for a weekend.” He cast a serious look at Starsky, then Hutch. “It’s become quite a little resort town. You _will_ go up there, you _will_ forget all about Ben Forest, and you _will_ enjoy yourselves.” 

Starsky opened his mouth, probably to object, but Dobey hardened his gaze. “I won’t have you involving yourselves in this investigation!” He glared at Hutch. “You, especially, Hutchinson, will stay the hell out of Forest’s way! Am I clear?”

“Very, Captain.”

“Crystal,” Starsky added.

“Good.” Dobey slammed the top folder closed. “Beverly Hills PD has already issued warrants for the lawyers’ arrests. They won’t be expecting it because they don’t know that we know Forest is out. The prison and the sheriff, for obvious reasons, have kept things under tight wraps. So far.”

Dobey took a steadying breath. “Beverly Hills also has warrants to search Shuster’s and Leslie’s offices, cars, and homes. We’re bound to have good leads by the end of the day. Now…” He picked up a piece of paper and a house key. “Ms. Coopersmith and her brother will be expecting you as soon as you can get up there. Here’s their phone number at the general store and the key to the cabin.”

Hutch took both items. 

“You can buy whatever supplies you’ll need at the Coopersmith’s.” Dobey shoved the stack of files to a corner of his desk. “There’s fishing gear at our place and lots of blankets, in case it gets cold. Wood’s next to the fireplace, and there’s more out in the shed. The phone and electric weren’t turned off this year because Edith and I thought we might get a chance to go up more often than we did.” He sighed. “But at least it’s ready for you.”

Hutch got up and Starsky climbed unhappily to his feet.

“Oh, one more thing.” Dobey held up a cautionary hand. “Until the storm that’s predicted in the next day or two arrives, watch yourselves. The fire danger’s high.”

“No problem.” Starsky donned a grin, unmistakably playing for levity now. “Hutch will never get me to go camping so…” he shrugged, “we will not be lighting any outdoor fires.” He reached for the doorknob with Hutch right behind him.

“I’ll check in with you at least once a day,” Dobey added. “Let you know what’s happening down here. As soon as we find out for sure that Forest is either out of the country or in custody, I’ll want you back at your desks.”

“Yes, sir.” Hutch followed Starsky out to the squad room.

*******

Starsky moved to his desk and began shuffling papers. “Got any unfinished reports you need me to do?” 

“You? Finish reports?” Hutch couldn’t hide his surprise.

Starsky smirked. “Sure. While you’re making a list of all our cases that Babcock and Simmons’ll have to cover.”

“You know there aren’t that many, Starsk.” The strain in Hutch’s voice was audible. “Actually, Dobey picked a good time to kick us out of here. The circumstances suck but I don’t think there’s anything they can’t handle, or that can’t wait ‘til we get back.”

“The guys know where to find our folders if they need anything anyway.” Starsky began to straighten up his desk. “Just thought I could make you smile by offering.” He cast a worried glance at his partner but Hutch was studiously clearing his work space and didn’t respond.

Elliot, the mail clerk pushed his cart through the doors and began dropping envelopes and packages on various desks. “Sorry I’m late.” He looked like a puppy who expected to be scolded. Placing a bottle of White Out on Starsky’s desk, Elliot held up the awaited catalog. “All the fellas in the mail room wanted to look through this before I brought it up, Hutch.”

“The mail room being such a dangerous place.” 

“Hey!” Elliot stood up straight and frowned. “You never know.”

Hutch swallowed his inappropriate humor immediately. “You’re right, Elliot. You never know.”

Starsky reached up and took the publication. “Thanks, kid.” 

“You’re welcome.” The clerk pushed his cart down the row of desks and out of the room.

“We’ll take it with us,” Starsky said. “It’ll give us something to read.”


	2. Chapter 2

Driving north that afternoon, Starsky smiled to himself. Dobey had said the town’s main road had been paved and the track to the cabin had been widened and smoothed. Without too much argument, he’d been able to talk Hutch into taking the Torino, since it really was more comfortable and reliable on trips. 

They were headed up to Pine Lake for an undetermined number of days off. Days when, for the first time in a very long while, they wouldn’t have the pressure of unsolved cases or pending court appearances on their minds. And others would be responsible for tracking down and apprehending Ben Forest. They’d have days of relaxation, fishing, maybe a little hiking, and long languorous nights of love-making. He took his right hand off the steering wheel and laid it lightly over Hutch’s fisted left hand. “Whacha thinkin’ so hard about, Hutch?” 

“I hate this, Starsk.”

“I know, but --”

“We shouldn’t have left!” The look on Hutch’s face was thunderous but Starsky felt something deeper, darker underlying the anger. “We know things about Forest that nobody else does! We could’ve helped.”

“If we’d stayed, you know Dobey would’ve put a guard on us. Twenty-four seven.”

“Probably. But, we could’ve --”

“Dobey doesn’t have that kind of manpower to waste. Not when he needs every available officer on the hunt.”

“I know.” Hutch nodded. “I still hate it.”

“Me, too, buddy. But look on the bright side.” Starsky grinned.

“There’s a bright side?” 

“We’ll be able to indulge all our fantasies.” Starsky wiggled his eyebrows. “All those things we’ve been thinking about doing to, and with each other?”

A small smile curved the corners of Hutch’s mouth, the images clearly beginning to play across his mind. Unexpected and unintended as they might be, they were obviously there. 

“Yeah.” Starsky chuckled. “Those fantasies.”

Hutch gave in to the smile. He unclenched his fingers and twined them with Starsky’s. “Sorry, Starsk. I’ve been so twisted up since Dobey told us Forest was out I couldn’t think straight.”

“Start thinking straight now then, partner. Until we get up there at least. Because at that time, my blond-haired friend, we’re gonna start thinkin’ kinky.”

“Hmmm.” Hutch’s reply didn’t have nearly as much relish as Starsky would have liked.

*******

Starsky stopped for gas half an hour south of Pine Lake, remembering there was only a two-pump station of an off-brand in the town itself. Never one to deliberately subject the Torino to a possible tankful of water-laden gas, he decided to fill up before they got there.

Hutch, plainly still preoccupied, came out of the men’s room and went into the convenience store while Starsky finished filling the tank. 

Starsky made his own trip to the john before he went into the store and browsed the aisles for munchies. Hutch came from the rear with a bottle of water and a box of Wheat Thins in his hands. Starsky grabbed a can of Coke out of the cooler and a bag of potato chips off the racks, following Hutch to the cash register. 

“You guys headed up to the lake?” The young clerk rang up the sale with a welcoming smile.

Starsky read the name embroidered on the clerk’s shirt. “Fast as he can get there, Neal.”

“No outdoor fires, please,” Neal warned. “Fire danger’s real high until after the storm gets here.”

“So we’ve heard.” Starsky gave him a ‘scout’s honor’ salute. “We’ll be careful.”

“Thanks.” Neal sounded as if he meant it.

Starsky paid for the gas and their purchases. He picked up his Coke and chips, held the door for Hutch, and followed him outside. “Everybody’s really concerned about fire.”

“It’s almost always a worry up here, Starsk.” Hutch’s tone was flat, as if he was reciting statistics. “This year especially, I guess. The drought’s dried everything to tinder. All it would take would be a spark.”

“Well…” Starsky cast a sly look across the top of the car. “What say you and I keep all our sparks inside the house?”

Hutch nodded but didn’t say anything as he climbed in on his side.

Starsky couldn’t help but wonder if his partner was worried about more than the fact that Forest was out of prison and that Dobey had talked them into leaving the investigation. He’d have to dig it out before too much longer or Hutch would bury himself in his usual over-thinking. They were getting out of the city to relax, after all. No need to take unnecessary baggage with them.

He drove in silence, watching the trees get taller and more tightly packed. A crescent moon climbed above the mountains to their right. Hutch, however, seemed oblivious to the beauty and serenity. “Why so quiet, Hutch?”

“No reason.” 

Starsky spared a glance from the twisting road to look at his best friend. “Seriously, babe, what’s bothering you? Other than the obvious, I mean.”

“I told you, it’s nothing.”

Starsky slowed, pulled off the road into a turnout and stopped, shutting the engine off. “I thought we promised each other no more secrets.” When Hutch didn’t respond, he prodded. “We’re not leavin’ here until you tell me what’s wrong, Hutch.” Not willing to take ‘no’ or silence for an answer, he waited patiently for a long time.

“It’s never gone away.” 

Hutch spoke the words so softly, Starsky wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. “What’s never gone away?”

“Every time we talk to a junkie, every time we bust a pusher, or a dealer, I think about it.” Hutch balled his fists on his thighs. “Hearing that Forest was out has brought it all back. Made me remember everything he did to me. How I gave him Jeannie.”

“Stop it!” Starsky’s anger blazed; Hutch did not need to be doing this to himself. “You didn’t _give_ him a goddamn thing. That stuff he pumped into you didn’t give you a choice!”

“I guess.” Hutch sounded tired. “My brain knows it. But… sometimes… my body forgets. It’s a physical craving.” 

Starsky didn’t look away from the pain-laden eyes boring into his. 

“I still want it, Starsk.” Hutch choked the words out. “Sometimes… I swear to God… It’s been six years… and I still want it.”

“Aw, Hutch, why didn’t you --” 

“I’m afraid, Starsk. It’s always in the back of my mind. What would happen if I was confronted again?” 

Starsky absorbed his partner’s haunted gaze, taking it in and giving back only support, understanding and unconditional love. 

“Right now,” Hutch went on, his voice very low and tense, “the way I feel, if somebody offered me a fix… I might just take it.”

“No you wouldn’t.” Starsky scooted across the seat. “You’re better than that! You talk like you’re not sure of yourself but I’m pretty damn sure of you!” He put a hand on his partner’s shoulder and began to knead the tight muscles. “You may doubt yourself right now, buddy, but I know you. You might think about it. But you’d never give in.”

“Wish I was as sure as you, partner.”

“Trust me, Hutch.” Starsky tightened his grip on the shoulder. “That’s all you have to do. Until Forest is dead or back in jail and you can trust yourself again.” He began rubbing Hutch’s knotted neck muscles.

“Okay. Consider yourself trusted. As always.”

Starsky surprised his partner with a kiss. He put his hands on either side of Hutch’s head, tightening the lip lock. Eventually, Hutch responded, his hands clutching Starsky’s jacket, his mouth opening and accepting Starsky’s ardent tongue. Starsky poured all his love, belief and support into the kiss, trying to help Hutch rebuild his defenses.

Hutch pushed away and sat back. “Warn a guy next time, okay?”

Starsky smiled evilly. “No fun that way, Blue Eyes.” Starsky met and held the still uncertain intense look.

Hutch took a deep breath and relaxed a little. “No warnings, huh?” He smiled a little. “I’ll remember that.”

Starsky quickly kissed him again. “To be continued.” He slid back behind the wheel and started the car. “Next stop, Pine Lake.”

*******

Jane Coopersmith greeted them warmly when Starsky and Hutch entered the small general store a little while later.

“Hello, Ms. Coopersmith.” Hutch walked toward her, holding out his hand. 

Starsky knew Hutch was forcing himself to show his usual calm, controlled side. It was an act but Starsky was the only one who was aware of it. And at least he was making the effort.

“Jane, please, Detective Hutchinson.” She smiled at him.

“Jane Austen, as I recall,” Hutch added. “Your mother was an avid reader.”

“Good memory, Detective. And my brother over there,” she pointed toward the cigarette counter, “is Herman Melville Coopersmith.”

“I remember.” Hutch nodded amiably toward the glowering brother. “I’m Ken.” 

Pink coloration spread upward from her throat in a flattering blush. Starsky was impressed yet again at his partner’s ability to charm, even when his heart wasn’t in it. Charm obviously wasn’t working on the brother though. The small, wiry, disgruntled-looking man stared at his sister and the newcomer with barely concealed annoyance. 

“My partner’s Dave.” Hutch gestured, inviting Starsky to join them. “We’ll be staying at the Dobey’s cabin for a little while.”

“Yes, we heard.” She bustled behind the counter. “Captain Dobey called me himself this morning. Said you’d need to pick up some supplies.”

“I hope we won’t be taking anything your other customers need.” Hutch looked around the small store.

“We’ve got plenty,” Ms. Coopersmith assured them. “Please gather whatever you want. We have a delivery due day after tomorrow. That is, if the promised storm doesn’t wash out the road from Dale.”

Starsky and Hutch each took a basket. Hutch filled his with staples and healthy vegetables while Starsky grabbed ice cream, chocolate sauce, raspberry jam, and a few other luxuries he hoped he could coax his lover into enjoying. 

Hutch paid for the supplies and they stowed the bags in the trunk of the car. 

“I didn’t remember the brother being that surly looking.” Starsky glanced toward the store.

“He definitely wasn’t the Welcome Wagon.”

“Not our problem though, right?” Starsky opened the driver’s door and got in.

“Nope.” Hutch got in on the other side.

Starsky started the car and drove away. “A paved street makes all the difference in this town.” 

*******

Herman Melville Coopersmith stood inside the front window of the store, watching the Torino drive away. “Faggots.” He didn’t hear his sister walk up behind him.

“That’s not a nice thing to say, Herm. Even if you knew it was true.” She looked at him hard. “You don’t, do you?”

“Naw.” He turned away from the window. “They just look like it is all.”

“Well, I don’t want to hear you say it again.”

“You won’t.” He headed toward the rear of the store.

“Where are you going?” 

“Gonna see if those guys in the back lodge need anything.”

“I wish you wouldn’t spend so much time with them. They don’t seem like nice people to me.”

“They’re hunters, sis.” Coopersmith felt as if that explained things. “They stick to themselves. Not real sociable, ya might say.” He left the store and walked the hundred yards or so to the last cabin in a line of small, new structures. He knocked, knowing his approach had been watched.

“Come on in, Herm,” a voice called from inside.

Coopersmith opened the door and walked in. 

*******

Starsky and Hutch unloaded the supplies from the car and stowed everything where it belonged in the well remembered rustic abode.

“Hey, Hutch,” Starsky hollered from the kitchen.

“What?” Hutch was pulling a couple of blankets out of the linen closet.

“No snakes in the fridge!”

Smiling indulgently, Hutch took the covers outside and hung them on a clothesline to air. “The sky in the northwest definitely looks like the storm’s getting close,” he reported, coming back inside. “It should help the drought situation, although it may keep us indoors for the next couple of days.”

“We just got here, Hutch, and you’re already talking about cabin fever?”

“No such thing, Starsk. I’m merely saying we may have to find inside activities to keep ourselves occupied.” He opened the chimney flue and began to build a fire in the commodious fireplace. He hoped it would create a welcoming atmosphere and help him forget his worries.

“Indoor activities, huh?” Starsky sprawled on the hearth rug, his chin in his hand. 

Hutch knew his partner loved to watch him do ‘Boy Scouty things’ so he took his time crushing newspaper, layering kindling, and adding a few strategically placed small logs. Starsky’s silent appraisal made him smile.

“Plenty of sticks here.” Starsky gestured to the pile of limbs and twigs in the corner. “We could carve animals for Cal and Rosie for Christmas.”

“They’re teenagers, buddy. They don’t want stick figures anymore.” Hutch lit several areas of the paper, sitting back on his heels, watching the fire catch and making sure it would draw properly. 

“When the hell did they grow up?”

Starsky’s feigned surprise made Hutch chuckle. Satisfied with the fire’s progress, he stood, reached down for Starsky’s hand and hauled him to his feet. “When did we?” He went to the couch, sat, and pulled Starsky down next to him. 

“Speak for yourself, Blondie. Me? I ain’t never gonna grow up!”

“You and Peter Pan.” 

“‘First star to the right and straight on ‘til morning’?” Starsky’s eyes were gleaming. 

“I think it was ‘second,’ but ‘first’ is close enough.” Hutch realized that Starsky’s ebullient mood was beginning to nudge him out of his funk and he was grateful.

“Well…” Starsky snuggled against Hutch’s chest, “if I’m Peter, does that make you Wendy?”

“I’ll be anybody you want, Starsk.” 

“Better watch it, Big Boy.” His partner sat up, a sudden predatory look adding to the gleam. “I’m just likely to turn into a clock-toting crocodile and eat you up.”

“Promises, promises.”

*******

Herman Coopersmith finished his second beer, crumpled the can and threw it into the corner, where it joined an already prodigious pile. Shit! Jane wouldn’t be happy with the way these guys were messing up the place. He knew he probably shouldn’t be helping them, but what the hell! She’d have him in here cleaning and disinfecting for days anyway, no matter what.

“Another, Herm?” 

The question made him forget his unhappy thoughts; he’d deal with Jane. “Don’t mind if I do.”

The man Herman knew as Ben, gestured toward one of the others in the room. Jane had said Ben looked ‘dapper,’ but Herm hadn’t known what that meant. Didn’t look like he was from around here, that was for sure. Even dressed in what appeared to be second-hand hunter’s garb of boots, woolen slacks, plaid shirt and lined jacket, Ben had style. Herm didn’t dismiss the definite menace the man exuded though. 

Ben’s second-in-command was George, tall, gaunt, gray-haired and bearded. He got up from his arm chair when Ben waved at him and took a beer from the refrigerator. He threw it to Herman before sitting back down.

Herm caught it expertly, opening the tab very slowly so that half the contents didn’t foam out. He knew the asshole had done that deliberately.

The phone on the table next to Ben’s chair rang. Picking up the receiver, he listened. “Yes…. They’re already here…. Good. You know where we’ll be…. No phone service. If I need you, I’ll call from Bent Cross…. Right.” He hung up and turned his attention back to Coopersmith. “You still think the storm will arrive before morning?”

“Yep.” Coopersmith did his best to sound authoritative. “By midnight.”

“In that case, we need to move.” Ben got to his feet.

George and the two other men in the room, Wylie and Sam, stood up as well. Herm had been told these two were brothers. Wylie looked like a coiled snake, Sam just looked bewildered, as if he hadn’t inherited the family mean streak. The unlikely combination of the four men made Herman slightly uneasy, although he couldn’t have said exactly why. He finished his beer in three gulps, tossed the empty in the corner, and joined the others. In for a penny...

*******

The fire had burned down to embers. Hutch made sure the coals were spread evenly and placed the screen tightly in front of the opening. He sat on the couch next to Starsky who was paging through the new catalog.

“This stuff looks… heavy. And cumbersome.” 

Hutch put an arm around Starsky’s shoulders and leaned down to read a sidebar. “Endorsements from departments all over the country. Field tests under live-fire conditions. Can’t be all that cumbersome and heavy, Starsk.”

His partner checked out a price. “And expensive!”

“Maybe they’ll embroider our names over the pockets at no additional charge.”

“These things have pockets?” 

“One can only hope.”

“Wonder if they come in colors.” 

“Why? You want yours in red, with white Velcro straps?”

“No.” Starsky hunched his shoulders, as if reprimanded, before he looked shyly at Hutch. “I was thinking I’d get yours in cornflower blue.” He dropped his gaze and Hutch could swear his partner was blushing. “To match your eyes.”

Hutch caught Starsky’s chin and turned his face toward him. “Then yours would have to be indigo.” He took the catalog and put it on the end table before he turned the light off. The glow from the fireplace was sufficient illumination to see the longing in Starsky’s eyes. Hutch kissed his lover lightly. “Thanks for putting up with me today, Starsk.” He pulled the dark curly haired head to his shoulder. “I know I’ve let Forest’s escape get to me and I’m sorry to make you carry the load, too.”

“‘s what I’m here for.” 

“Well, I’ll try not to be such a grump anymore. Okay?”

“Only…” Starsky paused dramatically, “if I can get another kiss.”

“That can be arranged.” Hutch captured the willing lips hungrily. He tasted the sweetness of the offered mouth, wrestled with the agile tongue and sucked greedily at the lower lip. Starsky reacted with appreciation and equal ardor. 

A spark ignited at the back of the fireplace, sending an ember shooting forward to impact the screen. 

Startled, Hutch broke the kiss and sat up. Staring at the dying fire, he waited for any more fireworks. Reassured that additional sparks would also be contained behind the screen, he drew his lover back against his chest. 

Starsky snuggled but couldn’t stifle a yawn. “Think we should stir our stumps and get to bed?” 

“‘Stir our stumps’?” Hutch repeated, suddenly wary. “Sounds indecent.”

“Well, you know the definition of ‘indecent,’ don’t you?” 

“I thought I did.”

“‘When it’s hard enough’,” Starsky quoted, “‘and in far enough, it’s in decent’.”

Hutch burst out laughing, grabbed Starsky and began tickling. “I’ll show you ‘in decent,’ pal.”

Starsky reciprocated and within seconds they were laughing like school children on unexpected recess.

*******

Outside, at the utility box on the back wall, Herman Coopersmith carefully, quietly, cut the phone and electric lines. He could hear laughter from inside but hadn’t been able to see a single thing through any of the windows. All the curtains were completely drawn. Still, he was positive he knew the meaning of the sounds he was hearing. “Queers. Perverts. They don’t belong on my mountain.” Keeping up his quiet diatribe, he walked back to the road where Ben and the others were waiting. Herman nodded emphatically.

“All right,” said Ben, “step two.” 

The moon’s light had been diffused by the heavy clouds that now covered most of the sky. Ben’s arm fell around Herman’s shoulder and he was turned back down the road, the taller man forcing him to walk quickly. The other three followed. When they reached an intersection with a paved highway coming from the west, Ben stopped and turned on a flashlight. A dirty, extended-cab pickup truck, the one the four men had driven to Pine Lake, was parked on the shoulder. Herm didn’t understand why they couldn’t have rented decent wheels since Ben always seemed to have a pocketful of cash.

“You say the fire units will come this way?” Ben asked.

“Yeah. We’re in District Fifteen. They’ll send a pumper truck and a rescue unit. Come right through here.”

“How many men?” 

“Like I told you before,” Herm replied, almost surly. “Two in each vehicle. Four, most likely.”

“‘Most likely’?” The arm tightened on Herman’s shoulders.

“Yeah! Coopersmith shrugged the arm off. “That’s standard. Especially if we tell ‘em the fire’s only just started.”

“Okay.” Ben stepped back. “George is going to take you back. Make the call. Wylie, Sam and I will remain here. When you and George get back, we’ll have everything ready. Once the trucks are in our hands, you’ll set the fire.” 

Even though he couldn’t see the eyes, Coopersmith knew Ben was staring at him. He was suddenly aware that he should have thought more about this before he got involved because it sure as hell was too late now.

*******

Jane heard a vehicle pull around behind the store and stop, figuring it was her brother and the men who had driven away earlier. She thought Herman would have seen the light on in her bedroom so she was surprised when he didn’t come up. She was even more surprised when she heard lowered voices. 

Putting the new John D. MacDonald book aside, she turned her light off and crept downstairs. She couldn’t have said why she was being so cautious in her own place of business and residence, but the presence of the four men over the last ten days had unaccountably set her teeth on edge.

Nearing the bottom of the stairs, she heard Herman’s voice talking to someone, probably on the phone. “Yes, sir, a fire north of our store. Just started, I think. You’ll need to hurry before it gets out of control.” There was a pause and Jane could barely breathe. “I’ll meet you at the junction.” Jane heard him hang up the receiver.

A different voice growled, “Let’s go!” 

Two sets of footsteps went out the back door and it was closed softly. The vehicle, undoubtedly the men’s pickup, was started and driven around the store. Jane hurried through to the front window in time to see it head north. Unlocking the doors, she stepped out onto the porch. Looking above the departing truck, she was dreading the sight of flames reaching toward the overcast. But, unexpectedly, the night was still, cloudy, and quiet. There was no fire that she could see. Or smell. What in the world did Herman Coopersmith think he was doing, filing a false report with the District?

Jane walked slowly inside and upstairs. Picking up her discarded book, she went back down, turned on the porch light, sat in the comfortable wicker chair she always kept there, and tried to concentrate on Travis McGee’s latest adventure.


	3. Chapter 3

Hutch nudged his partner and sat bolt upright in bed. “Starsky!” His partner woke up with a grunt. “Smell it?” 

“Smoke!” 

Hutch jumped out of bed, grabbing his clothes. He could hear Starsky doing the same on the other side.

Having dressed quickly, Hutch ran out of the bedroom and hurried through the dark to the front door, unlocked it and threw it open. To the south, low clouds reflected brilliant flickering reds and oranges. Above the tops of the trees along the road, tongues of flame licked the base of the overcast. The blaze had a ways to come but it was already much too close for comfort. 

“Shit!” Starsky was standing at his shoulder.

Reaching inside the door, Hutch flicked the light switch but nothing happened. He made his way across the room to the end table by the couch. There was no dial tone from the phone. “Electric and phone lines are already down.”

Starsky touched his arm, handing him his jacket and holstered weapon. “We need to get out of here.” 

“No argument.” Hutch locked the front door behind them. If, miraculously, the flames didn’t reach here, there was no point in giving potential looters a free rein.

The light from the approaching fire illuminated the Torino. Before they had a chance to get in though, red flashes appeared among the trunks of the closely crowded trees. Two emergency vehicles were coming rapidly toward them. Slightly behind the trucks was an old crew-cab pickup. The sound of the sirens rose and fell over the freight-train noise of the conflagration. 

Hutch and Starsky stood by the car. The fire units skidded to a stop, bracketing the Torino. The pickup stayed on the road. Two men in full fire fighting gear piled out of the pumper truck and approached the detectives. The driver and passenger of the rescue unit remained inside their vehicle.

“We didn’t think this cabin was occupied,” the driver of the pumper truck shouted. He was tall, gaunt and bearded. His uniform and gear didn’t fit him very well. “Good thing we checked with Jane at the store. She said you arrived today.” 

Hutch could barely hear him over the roar of the trucks’ engines and the fire. “That’s right.”

“Well, the only way out, now…” The fire fighter pointed up the road, away from the inferno, “is over the ridge.” He headed back toward his vehicle. “Follow us!” The two men climbed into the truck.

Starsky got in the Torino and started it. Hutch hesitated only a moment, trying to figure out why he was suddenly, and unaccountably so uneasy. Beside the fact that a forest fire was approaching. With a shrug, he got in on his side. Starsky pulled out onto the road behind the pumper truck. The rescue unit followed closely, with the pickup again trailing.

“That was lucky,” Starsky commented.

“Maybe.”

“What’s bothering you?”

“Hopefully nothing.” Hutch checked his side mirror. “It’s a little convenient though, don’t you think? And their gear didn’t fit them at all.”

“The crew-cab in back is the one that was parked at the Coopersmith’s.”

Again, Hutch looked in his mirror. “I hadn’t realized that.”

“Ambush?”

“I think we need to be ready for anything.” Hutch took the Python out of its holster. Silently, Starsky gave him his. Removing the Beretta, Hutch handed the weapon back before throwing both holsters onto the rear seat. Closing his fingers tightly around the grips of the .357, he waited. 

It began to rain, hard. One moment, the windshield was clear, the next, it was inundated. Starsky put his gun next to his thigh, clearly needing both hands for the wheel on the suddenly wet, slippery, twisting road. The promised storm had arrived all right, as a wall of water. Starsky flipped the wipers on high but they couldn’t keep up with the deluge. “This much rain could slow that fire.”

“This much rain,” Hutch repeated, “might even stop it.”

“We should be so lucky.”

“We’ve been lucky before, partner.”

“That we have.” Starsky spared a moment from his concentration on driving, to send a teeth-bared grin at Hutch. Unfortunately, Hutch couldn’t work up a matching expression.

*******

In the general store, Jane Coopersmith dialed the phone hurriedly. Rain drummed on the tin roof, falling harder and harder by the minute, making it difficult to hear the continuing rings. 

“Marsha?” she practically screamed, when the call was finally answered. “This is Jane. I need to speak to Charlie right away.” She ran nervous fingers through her tangled hair. “No! It can’t wait. Find him and have him call me back. Please!”

*******

“He’s getting awfully close, Starsk.” Hutch hadn’t taken his eyes off his side mirror in minutes.

“I know that!” Starsky tried to keep the irritation and tension out of his voice but knew he’d failed. 

“I know you know.”

The pumper truck had led the way up the narrow, curving road at break neck speed, requiring all Starsky’s skill to stay safely behind it. He knew what they were doing was crazy, since trying to outrun a forest fire by driving recklessly on a mountain road in a downpour, wasn’t sane!

Starsky had finally been able to take a deep breath after they’d reached the crest of the ridge and started down. The fire would hopefully be caught on the other side and extinguished by the heavy rain.

Just as it appeared the road might be leveling off and straightening out, the rescue vehicle behind them unexpectedly accelerated, smashing into the back of the Torino. The impact sent them crashing into the pumper truck. 

Starsky’s forehead hit the steering wheel and he realized he had no control over his car. All three vehicles came to a skidding stop in a cloud of mud, spray and gravel in a wide turnout. From the corner of his eye, Starsky saw the crew-cab pull up near the cluster. Shaking his head to clear it, he reached for Hutch’s arm. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine.” The fury in Hutch’s voice was barely contained. He gripped the Magnum in a white-knuckled right hand while reaching across his body with his left, toward the door handle.

Starsky grabbed his own weapon but before he could get his door open, the window was smashed and the muzzle of a pistol was jammed against his temple. He glanced over and saw that Hutch was in an identical position. Two men in yellow slickers had appeared out of nowhere, clearly intending to keep them in the Torino until their supposed fire-fighter cronies could join them from the emergency units. 

“If either of you moves a muscle,” the man holding the gun to Starsky’s head snarled, “you’ll die right here and now.”

Starsky sat still. Odds were stacked too heavily against them at the moment.

“Drop the guns on the floorboard,” Hutch’s half of the new pair ordered. 

Starsky darted a quick glance at his partner before complying. 

From in front of the pumper truck, an old delivery van was driven up next to the Torino and backed around so that its rear doors were about ten feet away. The pumper truck’s passenger jumped out and opened both doors before he ran to Starsky’s side of the car.

“Get out!” Starsky’s thug ordered. 

Pushing his slightly jammed door open and wincing at the metallic shriek, Starsky climbed out. His arms were immediately grabbed and wrenched behind him. “Hey, lookit this, big brother!” his captor chortled. “We don’t need the rope we brought. This one’s got handcuffs!”

Starsky’s restraints were pulled from his pocket and snapped tightly on his wrists. He’d been in this situation once or twice before and it was always humiliating.

On the other side of the car, Hutch was being treated to the same rough, impersonal activities by ‘big brother’ and the tall, bearded fire fighter who’d directed them up the hill. Lots of guns aimed at them, too many bad guys, no possibility of fighting back. At least not yet.

Bearded Guy reached inside the car on Hutch’s side and retrieved the Python before leaning over the back of the seat and grabbing both holsters. Starsky couldn’t help but wonder how in the world he knew they were there. Must have seen it in his rear view mirror. Also must have been really familiar with the road if he had that much attention to spare from his driving. 

The man leaped onto the hood of the Torino and slid across. Starsky sucked in a breath, fresh anger coursing through him. ‘Scratch that paint, you bastard, and I’ll hunt you down.’ Before he had a chance to voice his complaint, he was shoved toward the delivery van. 

Trying to keep his feet in the slick mud and gravel, Starsky stumbled toward the open doors. Looking around and memorizing everything he could see, he recognized Herman Coopersmith at the edge of the headlight-illuminated area. He was simply standing there as if stunned. A moment later, from the shadows behind him, a gun was put to the back of his unsuspecting head and a shot was fired. Coopersmith fell to the ground. Starsky realized he hadn’t thought much of the guy but he probably hadn’t deserved to die that way.

The passenger from the pumper truck waited impatiently, not offering to help, while Starsky climbed awkwardly into the van. The fake firefighter jumped in after him and searched roughly through all his pockets, finding his wallet and badge/ID folder. He put them in his jacket with a sly grin. 

“Better not try impersonating a police officer,” Starsky advised. “Real cops frown on that.”

“Shut up!” 

Starsky was pushed hard and fell against the left side of the van, lost his balance and slid to the floor. Before he could take a breath, a furniture tie-down was clipped to the wooden rail behind him, drawn tightly across his chest and fastened to the rail on his other side. Sly Grin kicked Starsky’s legs straight and hurried outside.

Hutch climbed in, followed by Sly, and was treated to exactly the same careless handling: searched, wallet and ID taken, shoved down and securely confined. Sly yanked their ankles together and tied them with a length of heavy rope. “Enjoy the ride, assholes.” He backed out of the van and slammed the doors. 

“I think we should speak to the Pine Lake Chamber of Commerce, Starsk.” Hutch’s voice was controlled but strained. “They need to start attracting a better class of tourists.”

Starsky was glad that Hutch was maintaining his sense of humor. For now anyway.

*******

“I know what I’m saying doesn’t make sense, Charlie.” Jane was nearly sobbing, trying to make herself heard above the storm. “But it’s true!”

On the other end of the line, Sheriff Charlie Ward, Jane’s fiancé, sounded as if he was trying not to get aggravated. “Slow down, honey. I’m listening. But I need you to tell me what you know, not what you think or suspect. I’m really busy here tonight.”

Jane took a deep breath. If she could keep from getting Herm in trouble, she would. If she couldn’t… well, that was his problem. “Four men showed up ten days ago and rented our largest cabin. I told you about that.”

“I remember.”

“I wasn’t concerned in the beginning.” 

“So why are you now, sweetheart?” 

“You didn’t meet them,” she said, as if that explained things. “They told us they were hunters but they didn’t look, or act like any hunters I’ve ever met!”

“Not against the law, Jane.”

“Will you just listen, Charlie?” Jane attempted to tamp down her anxiety again. “Herman started spending all his time with them. And you know Herm doesn’t like anybody!”

“That’s a fact.”

“Herm went with them for several days in a row and they were gone all day each time. Said he was showing them good places for a blind, for when hunting season opens again. But I don’t think that’s true.”

“Why not?” 

“Because my brother’s never happy, Charlie.” 

“I know.” She could tell he was nodding on the other end of the line.

“And he’s been smiling and snickering with these guys ever since they got here. He’s been almost cheerful around them.”

“None of this is evidence of anything Jane.” 

“Don’t you think I _know_ that?” She took another deep breath; there was no turning back. If Herman ended up in trouble, it was his doing. “I think Herman set tonight’s fire.”

“What?” 

Jane could tell she’d gotten his attention. “He went out with the four men right after Starsky and Hutchinson arrived --” 

“Who?” 

“Detectives from Bay City. You’ve met them, I’m sure. They were the ones who broke up that cult a few years ago.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember.” Ward must have been sorting through his mental Rolodex. “What about them?”

“They arrived this evening and stopped for supplies. Herman was muttering awful things after they left. He went down to the supposed-hunters’ lodge afterward. They all drove off in their pickup hours ago. Herman and one of them came back around ten o’clock.” She unconsciously lowered her voice. “I overheard my brother call the fire district. He said a blaze had started north of here. They needed to respond right away.” 

Jane stopped and looked around the deserted store, as if there was someone there who could help her dig herself out of this nightmare. 

“Are you still there, hon?” There was concern in the Sheriff’s voice now.

“Yes, Charlie, I’m still here. After Herman hung up and left, I went outside but there was no fire. I took my book out and read for a while. It started right before I called you, about a half hour later than when Herm told the district it was already burning. He had to have set it himself after he called them, don’t you think?” she asked, plaintively. “That was hours ago, Charlie. Where have you been? I told Marsha I needed to speak to you right away!” 

“I’ve had a busy night, love. My deputies and I were waking everybody up and helping any who wanted to evacuate. It was looking pretty serious before the rain started.”

“How bad is it?” 

“The fire’s already out, thanks to the storm, so things are beginning to settle down.”

“I’m glad. Do you know if the Dobey’s lost their place?”

“I don’t think so. One of my deputies lives up that way. He had to skirt the fire to get here but says it was pretty small, thankfully. He thinks the rain drowned the flames before they got that far up the ridge.” 

Jane heard a commotion on the other end of the line, before Ward spoke, hurriedly into the phone. “Hang on a second, Jane.” She could hear him conversing loudly and angrily with someone, words she couldn’t make out due to the rain pounding on the roof. At last the sheriff was back. “Still there?” 

“Still here, Charlie. What’s going on?”

“It seems the second fire units found --”

“Second units?” 

“Yes. I’m told Herman called around ten to report a fire, just like you said. Two trucks were dispatched immediately.” He paused, talking to someone else in the background. “I can’t tell you anything else, right now,” he said, coming back on the line and sounding suddenly officious. “This is looking like it’s going to be an active investigation.”

“Sheriff Ward,” Jane knew she sounded like the grade school teacher she used to be, “either you tell me or I’ll wheedle it out of Marsha. You know I will.”

“Jane, honey --”

“Don’t you ‘Jane, honey’ me! We’re talking about my brother here, too. Tell me what’s going on!”

He took several deep breaths. “You have to keep this to yourself, sweetie, or I could lose my job.”

“Nonsense, Charlie, not in this close-knit county. Just tell me what you know. Please.”

“I’ve heard from the guys in the second units. They were sent out when the first two didn’t check in. They found the men from those trucks, stripped and tied up. They’d been thrown in the bushes next to the junction of the ridge road and Dale highway. That’s apparently just south of where the fire started.”

She heard him talking with someone else again before he came back on the line. “The guys from the initial units say they were ambushed as they made the turn. Four armed men stopped them, made them take off all their gear and their uniforms, tied them up and left them. They drove north in the vehicles.” His voice lowered with concern. “A fifth man drove a crew-cab pickup truck behind them.”

“What else, Charlie?” Jane could sense he wasn’t telling her everything. 

“One of the firemen recognized Herman. He was the fifth man.”

She didn’t reply because there was nothing she could say.

“Why would he start that fire, Jane? What possible reason would he have?”

“I think he was paid, Charlie, by those four men. They must have wanted the detectives for some reason. They had my brother set the fire in order to drive Starsky and Hutchinson out of the Dobey’s cabin, so that they could capture them. From what you’ve just told me, they’d have been dressed as firemen and the detectives would’ve had no reason to suspect they were anything but.”

“Sounds kinda farfetched to me, sweetheart. You been reading those crime novels again?”

“Don’t you dare patronize me, Charles Jefferson Ward!” 

“I’m sorry, Jane. I truly am. Stress always makes me cranky, you know that, and tonight’s been a doozey. I’ll send a couple of my guys up there to check, make sure the detectives are okay. The Fire Department needs to make sure the blaze, brief as it was, didn’t damage the property. My deputies can meet them.” She heard him giving muffled orders. “I’ll call you later, honey.”

“Thanks, Charlie.” She didn’t try to disguise her concern.

“Don’t worry too much. Herman’s been in some trouble before, nothing he couldn’t talk his way out of though.”

“I hope so, dear.” She did hope, but was unconvinced. 

“Bye, sweetness --” 

“Wait! Charlie, wait!”

“What is it?” Ward sounded harried.

“Would you call Captain Dobey in Bay City, please?” She recited the number from Dobey’s card in her address book. “I don’t think it’s my place. You need to tell him about the fire before he hears it on the news.”

“I’ll do that, Jane. Thanks.”

“Good luck.” She hung up the phone and stood, staring out at the pouring rain. At least the fire was out.

*******

Starsky shifted position slightly, trying to ease cramped muscles. The van was bouncing over roads that didn’t feel paved and his butt was paying the price. The only illumination came from the headlights bouncing off the heavy rain and reflecting through the doorway to the driver’s compartment. Starsky could see the silhouettes of two men sitting uncomfortably on tiny camp stools in the opening. The driver wasn’t visible nor was the man Starsky assumed occupied the passenger’s seat.

The interior of Starsky’s portion of the van was open space, no windows and only the double doors at the back, with their two small, grimy portals. In one corner, near the doors, a pile of duffle bags was held to the wall by a cargo net. Starsky understood the reason for that, he and Hutch might have been able to make use of them somehow. Too bad.

“Did you get a good look at any of them?” Hutch asked. 

With the rain pounding on the roof, the ugly sound of the out-of-tune engine, and all the rattling from truck parts that no longer fit tightly, Starsky could barely hear his partner. “Not really,” he answered, fairly loudly. “With the headlights of the unit behind us reflecting off the pumper truck, and the rain pouring so hard, it was all I could do to focus on the gun in my face.”

“Same here.”

“It was well planned. You gotta give ‘em that.”

“They’ve had two weeks.” Hutch’s voice was flat. “Anybody who can’t come up with a kidnap plan in that time shouldn’t be in the business.”

“Damn dangerous though. Start a fire in tinder-dry country just to grab us?”

“Some people are more dangerous than others.”

“You think it’s Forest, don’t you?” Starsky really didn’t want to believe it.

“Who else?”

“Well,” Starsky thought-out-loud. “We have made our fair share of enemies. Can’t deny that.”

“Enemies who escaped from prison recently?”

“Good point.”

“Shut up back there!” The gruff voice came from the front of the truck. 

“I don’t feel much like shutting up.” Hutch did lower his voice a bit though. “Do you?”

“Only if I could sleep.”

“No chance of that.” Hutch shifted around. “Not even that wreck we commandeered on the trip down from San Francisco rode this badly.”

“Linda was something else, wasn’t she?” 

“Hope she enjoyed Paris.”

“She deserved it.”

“Did I see Herman Coopersmith get killed?” Hutch asked, radically changing the subject.

“I saw somebody who looked like Jane’s brother take a bullet in the back of the head. He never saw it coming.”

“He should have known though.” Hutch’s voice betrayed no sympathy. “Run with jackals, you’ve got a good chance of getting eaten.”

“Ouch.”

“Wonder if it was Forest who pulled the trigger.” 

“You’re sure it’s him, aren’t you?” 

“Feels like it.” Hutch looked at him, fear in his eyes, held down but lurking. “There’s a vibe he gives off. I remember it.”

“Well…” Starsky kicked his partner’s ankle lightly. “I hope you’re wrong.” Hutch said nothing. Slowly, Starsky became aware of a telltale odor and nudged Hutch’s foot again. 

“We got trouble, boss,” the harsh voice growled from the front.

“So I smell.” The words were spoken softly but carried over the ambient noise.

Hutch closed his eyes as Starsky recognized the dulcet tones of Ben Forest. 

“If I slow down,” Gruff Voice continued, “I’m pretty sure I can coax it to that gas station at the highway. They’re bound to have some Stop Leak.”

“And after that?” Forest’s tone was cold and angry. “You know I’ve got a schedule.”

“We may have to take it easy, put in more water and Stop Leak once in a while, but this thing’ll get us where we’re going. I’ll make sure of that, boss. And we’ll only be a little later than you planned.”

Starsky made sure the ‘we’ll get through this partner, I promise’ look he sent to Hutch held as much confidence as he could manage.


	4. Chapter 4

Jane Coopersmith couldn’t remember a longer night. Not having heard a word from her brother, and nothing more from Charlie, she’d finished one pot of coffee and started another. Just after eight, while she was watching the sun climb above the tall trees to the east of the store, making everything look new-washed and shiny, the sheriff’s car arrived. 

Her fiancé climbed tiredly out of the vehicle. His 6 foot 2 inch frame was slumped, the wide shoulders hunched, his uniform and cowboy boots mud- and soot-covered. He carried his Smokey-Bear hat in his hand. In the brilliant light of the post-storm morning, it appeared as if he’d aged at least ten years overnight. Instinctively knowing the news was bad, she opened the door for him before he reached it.

“I’m truly sorry, babe.” Charlie was unable to hide the sadness in his voice. “Herman’s dead.”

Jane put a hand over her mouth, smothering a gasp, and stepped back, holding the door open for him. He walked inside and closed it. Silently he put his arms around her and held her while she cried. After a few minutes, she pulled herself together and moved stiffly to the coffee pot behind the counter, poured a cup and handed it to him. “How?” 

“Someone shot him in the back of the head.”

“Where did it happen?” She picked up her own cup.

“Across the ridge from here.” The sheriff leaned a hip on one of the stools in front of the counter. “Why don’t I start from the beginning, okay?”

“Of course. But…” She straightened her shoulders. “I’ve been thinking about what you said last night. Should you tell me anything? It’ll be an official investigation now, right? I’m a civilian, Charlie. And my brother was involved in whatever has happened. For all you know, I could be, too.”

He gazed at her lovingly. “I’m so sorry I had to leave you alone all night with nothing to do but think. And worry.” He put his large hand over her small one. “If you’re involved in this, Jane, we’ll go down together. Okay?”

She returned his adoring look. “Not a ringing endorsement but,” she smiled a little, “I appreciate the thought.”

He returned her smile. “And what you said last night was true as well. We both know Marsha will spread the salient details as soon as she’s off shift.”

“She never tells things you wouldn’t want her to, does she?” 

“No, babe, I’m sure she doesn’t.”

“You could always fire her…” Jane shrugged. “If she did.”

“And lose my right arm?” 

“No.” She took a sip of coffee. “I guess not. Okay, I’m listening.” 

“The deputies I sent up to the Dobey’s cabin called in and reported that the detectives weren’t there. No car either.”

“They arrived in a bright red one.” 

“I know. Since there was only one way they could have gone to escape the fire, my men and I searched the road up and over the ridge. Near the bottom on the other side, we found the first units that had responded to the fire, Detective Starsky’s car, and a rented pickup. All of them had been abandoned in a turn around. From the few tracks that hadn’t been washed away by the rain, it appears another vehicle was waiting there.”

“And Herman?” 

“He never left the turnout. My boys are bringing his body in now.” Ward added his other hand to their clasp. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know, Charlie. Thank you.” 

“I called Captain Dobey as soon as I got back. He was already on his way up here. His dispatcher had to patch me through to his car. He had heard about the fire from Tom and Carol Bailey. They called him just before they got out of their house.” He drank some coffee. “Dobey told me that, after he’d talked to the Baileys, he tried to get in touch with his men and the call hadn’t gone through. He contacted the phone company, they checked, and reported the line was down.”

She was confused. “But you said the fire never reached there.”

“When my deputies got to the house they discovered all the lines had been cut. That’s when they broke a window and went in. To make sure the detectives weren’t unconscious inside. Or worse.”

“‘All the lines had been cut’,” she repeated.

He nodded. “I’m sorry I made that crack about your reading crime novels, honey. It looks like you were right.”

“You’re forgiven.” She gave him a wan smile.

“The captain will probably be here soon. He wants to be at the center of the search for his men.”

“You can’t blame him for that, can you, Charlie?” She sensed resentment from her man.

“No, I guess not.” He absent-mindedly drank coffee. “It’s just that he’s probably going to run roughshod all through my county. Insist on taking over the investigation. Might even want to bring in the Feds.”

“Captain Dobey’s not like that, Charlie. He’ll want to help, of course, but I’m sure he won’t try to undermine your authority. He’s never seemed like a steamroller to me. He and his family are really good people.”

“I hope you’re right, love. Because I’m going to have a tough enough time getting re-elected now as it is.”

“Why?” She was genuinely surprised. “None of this was your fault.”

“Try explaining that to a bunch of scared constituents. I wasn’t aware that criminals had moved into my territory. I allowed a citizen to hook up with them, start what could have been a disastrous forest fire, stood by while two big city detectives were kidnapped right out from under my nose, and my friend, Herman Coopersmith, was killed.” He spread his hands in a gesture of futility. “My deputies are already out beating the bushes around the vehicle transfer site but I really haven’t got a clue where to start looking for the two cops, or the guys who snatched them.”

“When you put it that way…” 

“Okay. You know I always over think things. But I do believe I have a problem.”

“Face it when it comes, dear.” Trying to comfort Charlie seemed to be helping her keep the grief at bay. The phone rang and she picked up the receiver. “Pine Lake General Store and Cabins,” she rattled off, with as much cheer as she could muster. You never knew when a prospective renter might be calling. “Hold on. He’s right here.” She handed the phone to Charlie.

“Ward here!” Listening intently, he drank more coffee. “I’ll be right there!” He handed the instrument back to her and she hung it up. “We’ve caught a break, Jane. Two of my deputies coming in from where the vehicles were abandoned have found a hiker who saw the whole thing. They’re bringing him down off the mountain now.”

*******

Dobey drove his Crown Vic as fast as he thought he dared. He knew he wasn’t the driver Starsky was but traffic was light and he made good time. He considered throwing the mars light on the roof and hitting the siren but decided against it. He hadn’t told the CHP he’d been speeding through their jurisdiction so it was probably best to go fast a little less spectacularly.

“Where are you two?” His question bounced around the empty interior. “Aren’t you ever going to learn to follow orders? Go up to the cabin, relax for a few days, I said. What’s difficult about that, huh? But, no! You have to leave and not tell me where you’re going.” 

Remembering what the sheriff had said, he moderated his tone of voice. “Phone lines cut though. No way you could call. Fire’s coming your way.” He drummed his fingers on the wheel. “Okay… no phone, fire, phony firefighters, a dead guy.” He wound the speedometer a little higher. “Pine Lake is never going to forgive Edith and me for buying a place there. First the cult, now this!”

*******

Out the windshield of the van, Starsky could see a huge 50’s era sign fronting a highway that probably used to carry a great deal more traffic than it did these days. In faded red letters on a used-to-be-white background were the words, “Crossroads Diner.” Under that, in smaller letters, “Food, Fuel, Auto & Truck Repair.”

The van was stopped near dense woods on the north side of the parking lot, thankfully in the shade. Starsky didn’t want to think about sitting in the closed vehicle, in the early morning sun for an hour or more while the radiator cooled off enough to allow the cap to be removed. 

Sly had turned around on his camp stool and was watching Starsky and Hutch carefully, the Beretta held casually. 

“Keep ‘em quiet, Wiley,” Gruff Voice snarled from the driver’s seat. “Let ‘em know what’ll happen if they make a sound.” He opened his door and got out. The man who’d ridden in the passenger seat, the guy with Ben Forest’s unmistakable voice, and the second man from the camp chairs, climbed out on the right hand side.

“You can probably figure out what George means, fellas.” Wiley passed the gun carelessly back and forth between his hands. “But I’ll spell it out for ya. There are two pickups and two cars in front of the diner right now which means there are four customers, maybe more, inside. There’s a cook and the owner, too. Her name’s Cheryl, by the way. So that’s at least six.” He spun the weapon around his trigger finger, probably having watched too many TV westerns when he was a kid. He grinned at his dexterity.

Starsky rolled his eyes at Hutch. 

“If either of you fuckers makes a sound out here, tries to draw attention to yourself, the boss and George are gonna waste everybody in there. You get my drift?” Wiley was definitely enjoying himself.

“Yeah.” Starsky wasn’t willing to waste any more words than necessary.

Starsky heard the sounds of something being dragged across the gravel, the hood being raised, and water directed onto the overheated radiator. The hiss was satisfying. Visions of this pile of junk crapping out before they reached their destination filled his head. 

Footsteps outside the van came toward the back. The doors were opened and the man from the second camp stool looked in. “Wiley, boss says you should bring him their breakfast orders. I’m supposed to take over here.”

“Why me, Sam? You should do it, li’l brother. You take orders from me, not Ben!”

“Ben said you, Wiley. He said I was to stay here.” He looked at Starsky and Hutch. “Food’s not too bad. We came over last week. They make a pretty good ham and cheese omelet. With hash browns.”

Starsky suddenly realized he was hungry! “I’ll have one of those. And coffee. Lots of coffee!”

Wiley made a disgusted grimace. “What about you?” He kicked Hutch’s leg.

“Nothing.” 

“The same for him, too,” Starsky said, quickly. He cast a hopeful glance at Hutch. “Have to keep up your strength, buddy.” He looked back at Wiley. “He’ll have ice tea though. A tall one.”

“Water!” Hutch corrected.

“Okay,” Starsky said, “no coffee. Big glasses of water for both of us.”

“Got that, Wiley?” Sam looked at his brother. “Two ham and cheese omelets with hash browns, and water.”

“Wheat toast,” Hutch added.

“White for me!” Starsky gave Wiley a big smile. “And plenty of grape jelly!”

“I got it,” Wiley growled, surly to the last. An ugly smile creased his mouth. “Sure, I’ll bring their breakfasts. They’re payin’ for everything after all.” He tossed the Beretta unexpectedly to Sam, who only just managed to catch it before it struck him in the forehead. Wiley climbed out the passenger side. 

Sam sat on the floor at the doors, not looking at Starsky or Hutch, simply staring at the gun in his hands.

*******

Dobey parked at the curb in front of the Pine County Sheriff’s Department. Pushing through the front doors, Charlie Ward stopped just outside when he saw the Crown Vic. Dobey had seen many weary, worried law enforcement officers but this one looked about as beaten down as any. Ward walked forward extending his hand. 

Dobey took it. “I don’t know if you remember me, Sheriff, I’m Harold Dobey. Bay City PD.”

“Sure do, Captain. I was just heading over to the hospital to talk to a hiker who may have seen your men last night.” 

“May I join you?” Dobey was instantly tense. A lead already?

“Of course. I was going to have Marsha send you --”

A woman opened the glass door behind Ward. “Sheriff! Dean’s on the phone for you.”

Ward turned and headed back inside, gesturing Dobey to accompany him. At the counter, the woman handed Charlie the phone. “Ward here!…. I was just headed over there, Dean…. Oh, okay. He’s in good enough condition?” He listened for a while. “If the doc says so… Sure… Captain Dobey’s here now, too…. Great! Thanks.” He handed the phone to the woman and she hung it up. “Thanks, Marsha.”

Ward turned to Dobey. “The hiker apparently cracked a bone in his left leg so Doc’s put him in a walking cast. I’m told he also hit his head pretty good but refuses to be admitted for observation. Says he’s done it before. Doc says he hasn’t shown any signs of concussion in the two hours he’s been there and is willing to let him go.” 

He headed toward the rear of the building. “Come on back to my office. I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee while we wait. Dean’s bringing him over after the paperwork’s done. His name’s Jeremy.”

*******

Wiley and Sam were arguing in hushed voices just outside the open doors of the van. Starsky had a tray on his lap and was making a serious dent in his omelet. “This is really good, Hutch.” His partner hadn’t touched a bite of his food yet. Starsky put his fork down and waited until Hutch looked at him. “Please eat, babe. You’re not going to be any good to yourself or me either if you don’t.” A momentary flash of irritation crossed Hutch’s face but he said nothing. Starsky gently kicked his ankle. “We’re going to get out of this, Hutch.”

“You can’t say that, Starsky! We both know we’re in deep shit here.”

“Sure we are. But we’ve been here before. Okay, maybe not ‘here,’ exactly, but close.” He tried a rueful smile. “And we’ve always managed to come out the other side more or less in one piece.”

“How many more times can we hope to do that, Starsk?” 

“As many as we have to, Hutch. Just as many as we have to.” He picked his fork up again. “Yesterday you said you’d trust me so I’m asking you to do that. Trust me when I say we’re going to get out of this. And please eat your breakfast.” He took a bite of eggs and watched Hutch think about what he’d said.

His partner didn’t look up but he drank most of the large glass of water. And he did pick up his fork and begin to eat. It was all Starsky could hope for at the moment.

*******

Charlie hung up his phone angrily. “Can you believe that? The hospital administrator’s holding up releasing the hiker over some snafu with his medical coverage. Dean says it shouldn’t be much longer but, man, I’m pissed! I’ve been waiting almost three hours to question this guy and now I’m being hung up by a damned paper pusher!” He refilled Dobey’s coffee cup and his own.

“A few minutes one way or another may not make any difference, Sheriff,” Dobey said, with as much conviction as he could muster.

“You don’t believe that any more than I do, Captain,” Ward shot back. “Every single minute counts! I’ve got all my deputies out combing that whole mountain from where the vehicles were abandoned to the county line in every direction. And they’ve turned up nothing!”

Dobey drank his coffee, impressed by the sheriff’s apparent determination to find Starsky and Hutch. He just prayed they wouldn’t be too late. “May I use your phone, Sheriff? I need to call my wife.”

“Of course.” Ward stood up and led the way to a vacant office. “Dial nine for an outside line.” He pointed to the phone on the desk. “Don’t worry about calling collect, the department can afford one.” He smiled and closed the door behind him on his way out.

Dobey dialed before he had a chance to think of what to say. When Edith answered after only a half-ring, he hadn’t quite figured it out yet and he stumbled a bit. “Hi, honey… uh, I just got here a few minutes ago…. The Sheriff’s letting me call from an empty office.”

“You made excellent time, dear.” Dobey knew she was giving him the opportunity to think.

“Yes, I guess I did. Pushed it, actually. Kinda glad the CHiPies were still asleep.”

“Are Starsky and Hutch all right, sweetheart? And the cabin?”

“The house is fine, Edith.”

“But not Dave and Ken?” There was concern now in her voice. “What’s wrong, Harold?” 

“They’re… missing.” He went on hurriedly, “I can’t tell you anything more right now, honey, because I don’t know anything. As the Baileys told us a fire was moving toward our place and whether or not Starsky and Hutch left voluntarily we don’t know. But they’ve disappeared.” 

“You’ll find them, dear. Whatever’s happened, wherever they are, you’ll find them.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Of course you will.” He could tell she was smiling. “They know you’ll be searching, they won’t give up. And you can’t either, Harold. You’ll find them.”

“Thanks, Edith.” He was truly grateful for her support. “I think I needed that.”

“I won’t keep you. But please call me when you know more, all right?”

“Of course I will,” Dobey promised. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, dear.” 

Dobey disconnected and made his way back to Ward’s office. 

*******

The noises from the front of the van cut into Starsky’s enjoyment of the last of his toast. He could hear George swearing at the radiator cap, which was undoubtedly corroded. Starsky smiled to himself at the inventive profanity. Some banging with a heavy tool was finally able to knock the offending object loose. Soon the recognizable smell of Stop Leak collected in the closed van. Starsky tried not to breathe too deeply and nudged Hutch’s foot. “Shallow breaths, partner. The stuff could be toxic.” He was thrilled when Hutch managed a small smile. Sweet-smelling antifreeze was next, then the water was turned on again, undoubtedly beginning to fill the ancient radiator.

Wylie climbed in the back of the van and picked up the breakfast trays, making sure the cutlery was still there. He handed them out to Sam, who headed toward the diner with them. Wiley dug a folding knife out of his pocket and cut the rope binding Starsky’s and Hutch’s ankles. George appeared in the open doors, Hutch’s Python held loosely in his large fist.

Wiley unlocked the half of Starsky’s cuffs that was snapped around the tie down rail and fastened it around his own wrist. “Try anything funny, cop, and George here is gonna put a bullet right between your partner’s pretty blue eyes.” He dragged Starsky to the back of the van and out. Starsky had to lean against the truck for almost a minute before there was enough feeling in his legs and feet to allow him to move. 

“Boss says the radiator’s almost ready.” Wiley gestured toward the woods. “But I just know you gotta take a piss after last night’s ride and drinkin’ all that water. He don’t want either of ya smellin’ up the van, and you’re not gettin’ anywhere near the diner, so you’ll have to commune with nature, as the sayin’ goes.” He shoved Starsky toward the trees.

“You got any toilet paper, Wiley? I gotta take a dump.”

“What’s wrong with leaves?” Wiley snarled. “Wasn’t you a Boy Scout?”

“In my neighborhood?” Starsky made his way between the pines. “I’m willing to bet you weren’t either, chump,” he muttered. Finding a fallen log, Starsky unzipped, lowered his jeans and briefs and sat, his rump hanging over the back of the makeshift seat. 

Wiley stretched to the limit of their joined wrists and turned away. “Geez, the things I do for the boss.”

Starsky grinned and took his own good time relieving himself, wiping with the surprisingly utilitarian leaves and standing up. He completed his eliminations by emptying his bladder onto the vegetation. Zipping up, he turned to Wiley. “What’s next?”

Decidedly unhappy, Wiley stalked back to the van, dragging a smirking Starsky behind him. “Get Hutchinson out here, George, so he can do his business, too.” 

*******

Dobey sat in Charlie Ward’s office, drinking coffee he didn’t want, feigning patience he didn’t feel.

Across the office, the hiker was settling himself in a chair, putting his crutches on the floor next to him and propping his walking cast on a milk crate one of the deputies had provided. Marsha sat at Ward’s desk ready to write down everything that was said. Sheriff Ward was plainly trying not to hover. He poured a cup of coffee and handed it to the young man. “It’s Jeremy, right?”

“Yes, sir. Jerry Travelli.” He appeared to be in his early twenties. His clothes showed the signs of having spent the night in anything but the lap of luxury. His face, although clean, was drawn and pale, his hair still mussed. His gray eyes had a haunted look.

Ward cast an uncertain glance at his deputy. “Are you sure he shouldn’t have stayed in the hospital, Dean? He doesn’t look all that chipper to me.”

“Doc said his injuries are --” 

“I’m right here, fellas,” the hiker interrupted.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” Ward patted the kid’s shoulder. “Tell us what you saw, Jerry.” He leaned against the edge of his desk.

Dobey sat forward.

“I was hurrying, I admit that.” Jerry warmed his hands around his mug. “I knew the storm was coming and didn’t want to get caught in it.” He sipped from the cup. “I fell. Simple as that. I didn’t watch my footing and the next thing I knew, I was going ass-over-teakettle down the trail.” He grinned ruefully at his audience. 

“Go on,” the sheriff encouraged.

“I guess I passed out because when I woke up it was pouring. And it hadn’t been when I fell. I really don’t know how much time had passed, I’d broken my watch.” He drank more coffee. “It was pitch dark. I had a flashlight but it was so feeble it barely kept me on the trail.”

Dobey sensed that the sheriff wanted the kid to cut to the chase but was making an effort to rein in his impatience.

“I hobbled after that,” Jerry went on. “Found a branch I could use as a crutch and kept going. After a while, I saw lights and started shouting. But nobody answered me.” He shivered and drank more coffee. “When I rounded a curve in the trail I could see the lights. Five vehicles were bunched in a turnout at the side of the road about fifty feet below me. I hollered again but I guess the storm drowned me out.” He shifted uncomfortably in the hard chair. 

“I apologize for the poor accommodations, Jerry,” said Ward, kindly. “We’ll get you to your motel just as soon as you’ve told us everything you can. The men we’re looking for are dangerous and the ones they kidnapped are Bay City detectives.”

“They’re in deep trouble, sir,” Jerry said. “I can tell you that.”

“But they’re alive?” Dobey, unable to contain himself any longer, got up and strode across the room to stand next to Ward. 

“Yes, sir,” Jerry replied. “They were when I saw them.”

Dobey looked at Ward, silently asking for permission to take part in the interview. He could see that the sheriff had misgivings but was glad when the lawman nodded.

“Jerry, this is Captain Dobey of the Bay City PD. It’s his men who have been kidnapped. He’d like to ask you some questions.”

“Of course, sir.”

Dobey nodded at Ward. “Thanks, Sheriff.” He turned back to the young man. “You saw the two men in the red car?” 

“If you mean the one sandwiched between the fire trucks, yes sir. I’d figured out by then that I was glad no one had heard me yelling. I turned my flashlight off, afraid someone would look up and see it. I really didn’t want any part of what was going on down there.”

“What was going on down there?” Ward prodded.

Jerry drank more coffee, obviously coming to a part that made him very uncomfortable. Ward reached for the pot and refilled the cup. Jerry took a few more swallows. “The driver of the red car was fairly tall, had curly dark hair. The passenger was a little taller, and blond.” He looked at Dobey. “Are those your men, sir?”

“Sounds like it.” Dobey tried to keep the tension out of his voice.

“You said it was pitch dark, Jerry,” Ward pointed out. “How were you seeing all this?”

“It was dark on the trail, Sheriff, but not where it was all happening. They never turned any of the headlights off. It was nearly as bright as day in that small area with all that light bouncing around off all those wet, shiny surfaces.”

“I understand, Jerry, thanks.” Ward seemed satisfied with the explanation.

“Your men weren’t hurt, sir,” Jerry assured Dobey. “At least not that I saw. Each one had a gun to his head and their hands had been tied behind their backs. But they walked under their own power to the delivery van.”

“What delivery van?” the sheriff broke in.

“The one that was sitting next to the cluster of vehicles.”

“Can you describe it for us?” Dobey asked.

“It wasn’t really in the light but it looked like a dirty white or light gray. Old. I want to call it a step van but that may not be right. Some sort of faded lettering on the side but it was too dark and too far away for me to read any words.”

“What happened then?” Ward prompted.

Jerry shuddered again, and drank more coffee. “That’s when I saw the other man die.” 

Dobey and Ward looked at each other. “Tell us about that,” said Ward.

“He was standing off to the side out of everyone’s way. Almost looked like he didn’t want to be there. Someone came up behind him. I couldn’t see any details, just a man. And with the storm I couldn’t hear if anything was said. I don’t think so because the guy didn’t turn. He just fell when the man behind him put a gun to his head and fired.” Jerry looked up at his listeners. “I didn’t do anything to stop it, Sheriff. Maybe I could have yelled or something. Anything. But I didn’t.”

Dobey put a hand on Jerry’s shoulder. “I’m glad you didn’t son. If you had, they would have killed you, too.”

“Captain Dobey’s right, Jerry. Now tell us the rest so that we can get you to your motel.”

“Your men,” Jerry told Dobey, “were shoved into the van, the curly haired one first. One of the gang followed and was inside for a couple of minutes. As soon as he climbed out, the other officer was pushed in and the same guy followed him. When he came out again a few minutes later he and a taller, bearded guy ran to the old pickup and hauled some duffle bags to the van.”

Jerry shifted around in the chair and moved his leg to a more comfortable position. He drank coffee, clearly sorting memories. “While all that was going on, the man who had killed the bystander pulled an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to a guy standing with his buddy at the edge of the light. This man opened the envelope and it looked like he was counting something. He slapped his companion on the arm and the two of them ran off into the woods.”

“Can you describe those two men, Jerry?” Ward asked.

“Not as tall as your blond detective, Captain,” Jerry said. “About the height of the dark haired one. They had on jeans and bright yellow slickers. They were the only ones dressed for the rain.” He thought for another few seconds. “Work boots. Light colored cowboy hats. Oh, shit! That would make them shorter than I said. Sorry.” 

The sheriff smiled. “Don’t worry about it. Go on.”

The young man shook his head. “That’s all I remember.”

Ward looked up at the deputy who was standing in the doorway. “Get on that right away, Dean. I want those two guys!”

“Yes sir.” Dean turned and ran down the hall. Another deputy stepped into his place.

“Go on, Jerry,” Ward urged.

“The four men that were left climbed out of their fire fighter’s gear and uniforms and just left them in the mud. They had regular clothes on underneath and didn’t seem to care that they were getting soaked. 

“Describe them, please.” The sheriff checked that Marsha was getting all this down.

“Not much to tell, really,” said Jerry. “It was raining so hard, their clothes all looked black. Wool shirts maybe, jeans or work pants. The bearded guy was taller than the others. The rest just looked wet. The Beard and the one who’d put the detectives in the van appeared to be congratulating each other. I heard them laughing.”

He drank more coffee. “That is, until the gunman spoke to them. I didn’t hear what he said, but it brought them up short. They all climbed in the front of the van and drove off.”

“What happened then?” Ward glanced at his watch. “That was hours ago, you know.”

“Yes, sir.” The young hiker looked at them in obvious embarrassment. “I stumbled down to the road and started running as fast as I could. I must have stepped in a rut or something though, because I fell again. I remember sliding into some bushes and that’s all.” He looked around at his audience. “Until I woke up with two guys standing over me.”

The deputy in the doorway spoke up. “Rudy and I saw his foot sticking out of the undergrowth.”

“I think you should probably go back to the hospital, Jerry,” Ward said. “You’ve had quite a night.”

“Thanks for the thought, Sheriff, but no thanks.” Jerry lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug. “I’ve been hiking most of my life, taken more than my share of tumbles. I’ve broken bones and knocked myself out a few times.” He grinned ruefully. “I’ll be fine with a hot meal and a very, very long sleep.”

“Your call,” the sheriff agreed. 

Jerry handed Ward his coffee cup, picked up his crutches and got to his feet. Marsha closed her notebook, came around the desk and stood next to Jerry.

“Thanks again.” Ward offered his hand. “We’re grateful for all your help. And glad you’re as tough as you are. Make sure Marsha, here, has your contact information in case we need to ask any more questions. And she’ll give you a voucher. A free dinner is the least we can offer.”

“You’re welcome, Sheriff. And I’ll enjoy that meal.” He turned to Dobey, holding out his hand. “I sure hope you get your men back, Captain.”

“So do I, son.” Dobey shook the young man’s hand firmly.

Jerry, Marsha and the deputy left. Ward gestured Dobey to the best guest chair in the office, picked up the coffee pot and refilled their two cups. Walking wearily around the desk, he sat down. “Where do we go from here?” 

“We find the van,” Dobey stated, with conviction.

“Agreed. But my men have been looking since we realized what must have happened. We haven’t found shit!”

“How many roads lead away from that turnout?” 

“Not many actual roads but dozens of dirt tracks.” Ward called through his open office door. “Roger! Bring me the best map we’ve got of the whole county.”

“Now that we have a description of the vehicle,” Dobey said, “your deputies will know what to look for and ask about. Someone saw that van and can tell us which way it was headed.”

Roger, the one that had taken Dean’s place in the doorway, hurried in. He unfolded a large map on top of the sheriff’s desk, stepped back out of the way but didn’t leave. Orienting himself, Ward put his index finger on a spot in the top left quadrant. 

Leaning over the map, Dobey ran his own finger along a dotted line. “If I’ve got my directions right, this would be the road they’d take away from the fire.”

“That’s how I’d go,” Ward agreed. “It’s the only possibility for a vehicle that isn’t a four-wheel drive, and it doesn’t sound as if that van could have been. It’s a graded fire road for about five miles then it becomes County Route Thirty-Three for another twenty-five or so. After Thirty-Three intersects Four Forty-One here though,” he pointed to a spot near the edge of the map, “we’ll be out of my jurisdiction. It’s a long way from the turnout and my deputies haven’t gotten that far yet.”

“We’ve got hours of daylight left, Sheriff,” Dobey pointed out. “What about the intersection? Is there a gas station there? Or a motel, a general store? Maybe someone saw which way the van went. It can’t be that common a vehicle in this area. Somebody had to have seen it!”

“There’s a gas station, garage and coffee shop,” Ward remembered. “Bit of a trouble spot.” He looked at his deputy. “We get a lot of calls out there, right?”

The deputy stepped forward. “Yes, sir. Crossroads Diner. It’s open all night. Got a beer and wine license, too.”

“That means there are people around all night.” Dobey tried not to get his hopes up.

“Roger,…” Ward grabbed his hat, “have Marsha call everybody off the search of tracks and back roads. Send cars along that fire road from the turn around to Thirty-Three then out to Four-Forty-One. Make sure they talk to everybody. We need to find out where that van went. Captain Dobey and I are going directly to the Crossroads.”

“Give me a minute, Sheriff.” Dobey angled toward his car on their way out the front door. “I need to grab my overnight.”

“We’re only going across the county, Captain.” 

Dobey stopped and looked the younger man directly in the eyes. “I’m following this lead as far as it takes me, Sheriff, and I’m not coming back until I’ve found my boys.”

“I’ll wait,” said Ward.


	5. Chapter 5

Starsky’s entire lower body was numb. They’d left the diner far behind and from the direction of the sun coming through the windshield he could tell they were headed east. 

Hutch hadn’t said anything since the van had pulled out of the parking lot. Starsky knew his partner well enough to know he was almost certainly re-living his four days of captivity and torture when he was in Ben Forest’s hands the first time. Days that he’d never really talked about. With anybody. Even if he’d wanted to consult a shrink he couldn’t have mentioned the heroin; that would have ended up in his file and probably ruined his career. And it was the forced heroin injections and their aftermath that were clearly still giving Hutch the kind of self-doubts and recriminations he’d admitted to the day before.

He’d dealt with what had been done to him the best he could by himself. Starsky had tried to help, as much as Hutch would let him, but Hutch had undoubtedly walled off most of the memories as well as his self-loathing, humiliation and downright fear, into a mental compartment. A space no one, probably even Hutch himself, was allowed to enter. 

Except now that they were in Forest’s hands again Hutch would be forced to enter that compartment and confront all those horrors. And Starsky was bound and determined that he would _not_ have to do it alone. 

First Starsky needed to get Hutch talking, thinking, working things out, coming up with a plan. Two things Starsky knew Hutch was supremely good at: worrying and planning. Worrying would be useless in this situation and counter-productive. Planning would be A Good Thing.

In order to plan though, he and Hutch needed to be on the same page, have the same information. All the same information. And there were things Hutch didn’t know about Forest. And others. Yet. How to tell him… where to start… figure out the kidnapping first… talk about the details… get Hutch using that beautiful brain of his again.

“How did Forest know where we were?” Starsky posed the question quietly. Since they now had only the van’s noises to cover the sound of their voices they’d need to be careful. He didn’t want anybody up front to hear what he was going to be telling Hutch.

Hutch visibly shook himself and probably had to drag his mind back from wherever his dark thoughts had taken him. It was a minute or more before he looked at Starsky. “Herman Coopersmith.”

“No. I mean, how did Forest know to go to Pine Lake at all?”

“The cabin’s pretty much common knowledge in the department, Starsk.”

“Right. In the department.” Starsky paused, allowing the significance to sink in. “Think about it, Hutch. A _black_ cop from Southern California with a cozy getaway in a mostly white mountain town like Pine Lake? How many people outside the department know about it, you think?”

“Everybody in Pine Lake.”

“I doubt that anybody in Pine Lake had access to Forest or his lawyers.”

Hutch was silent for a time. “One of ours is on his payroll.”

Starsky nodded. “That’s what I’m thinking.”

“Have you got a name?”

“Simonetti retired last year, right?” Starsky realized his question was seemingly apropos of nothing but went on quckly. “Moved to Florida.”

“Yeah. So it can’t be him.”

“No, it can’t. But you know the guy that slipped right into I.A. after he left. Used to head up the gang detail in the Sixth. Stupid name. Couch, sofa…”

“Davenport.”

“Fred Davenport! He hates you, Hutch. Probably even more than Simonetti did.”

Hutch was clearly stunned. “How do you know that, Starsk?” 

“Cast your mind back to the morning we broke up his huge gang sweep. Three, four years ago?”

“Three and a half.” Hutch provided the correct time period without a thought. “Molly was still fourteen. Kiko had just turned fifteen.”

“Knew you’d remember.” 

“How could I forget?” 

Starsky figured Hutch was already mentally replaying the scene. “Davenport had kept it as quiet as he could, even though there were rumors floating around about a proposed gang round up. He probably thought he’d get his first commendation by throwing a net over the whole area and arresting everybody he caught.” He paused to make sure Hutch was on the same page. “You realized what was happening as soon as Kiko and Molly didn’t meet us that morning. We found out where the kids were being processed, you swooped down like an avenging angel, and had Davenport braced up against a fence before he knew what hit him.”

“You were there, too.”

“That’s how I know he hates you. His men were standing around, gawking, while you read him the riot act. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite as angry. You told him he’d better do a little more research in the future before he arrested innocent kids and marked them for life as being suspected gang members.”

Hutch almost chuckled. “I was pretty steamed.”

“I’ll say. You were beautiful, babe.” Starsky beamed at him. “I was able to get Kiko and Molly out of the mix before their names were even down on paper. But as I was hustling them away…” He looked significantly into the eyes he could barely see across the space. “I saw the look Davenport drilled into your back. You had turned to speak to his sergeant.”

“What do you mean? What look?”

“Let’s just say it made me look up the word, detestation.” 

“What’s it got to do with Forest though?” 

“A little more background here, stay with me.” Hutch nodded. “Simonetti liked Davenport’s attitude from that day on. He helped smooth over the fiasco the sweep could have been, started grooming him for I.A.”

“And like a good little puppet,” Hutch completed the thought, “Davenport slid right in last year.”

Starsky took a deep breath; he sincerely hoped he was doing the right thing. “Did you know that Simonetti asked Forest’s lawyers for a private interview with the scumbag? It was shortly after we arrested him.”

“No.” Hutch’s eyes opened wide. “I didn’t. But what’s that got to do with Davenport hating me?”

“Hang on one more sec, I’m getting there.” Starsky sorted through the things he needed to tell his partner, trying to put them in order. “Simonetti cornered the captain one day and said that he recognized the look in your eyes. He was positive you’d been on drugs and he wanted the details of what Forest had done to you. Dobey told him, politely, to go fuck himself. The captain didn’t mention it to you because he thought you had enough on your mind without that. He told me though so that he’d have an ally in case Simonetti made waves.” 

Starsky waited while Hutch processed the revelation. “Stonewalled by Dobey, Simonetti tried to go directly to Forest to confirm his suspicion that you’d been a heroin user. Even if it was forced, and only for a few days, Simonetti wanted that knowledge.”

Hutch shuddered and hunched his shoulders. 

Starsky hated doing this but he knew that Hutch needed all the armor he could get and information was armor. “Dobey figured Simonetti was going to encourage the lawyers to bring it out at the trial, cast doubt on you and your testimony. Forest would probably still have gone down but you’d have been dragged through the shit. Both Simonetti and Forest would have loved every minute of that.”

Hutch looked up at him and the realization of how close he had come to being labeled a heroin-user in court was plain in his eyes. 

“Dobey was pretty sure he could keep your job for you if the truth did come out. The injections had been a form of torture. You were clean. You’d submit to drug testing. You were one of the best cops on the force and had the commendations to prove it. The department couldn’t afford to lose you.” He paused for a breath. “But Dobey also knew you didn’t need to go through all that.” 

“God, Starsky, I never realized --” 

“Let me finish,” Starsky cut in, interrupting self flagellation on Hutch’s part. “Dobey went to Shuster and Leslie before they could set up a meeting between Forest and Simonetti. He told those guys that if they so much as hinted at anything other than the physical beatings Forest had his men inflict on you they’d regret it. He said if he even heard a whiff of the word heroin, he’d get the charges against Forest amended to include attempted pre-meditated murder of a police officer. That would have been a heavy charge, added to drug trafficking, kidnapping, and all the other things Forest was facing.”

Starsky allowed another few minutes of relative silence to pass. Muttered voices from the front of the truck told him the guys up there weren’t paying any attention to their prisoners’ quiet conversation.

“Dobey told the lawyers that they, and Forest, had better keep their mouths shut about using drugs on you and take whatever the judge and jury threw at them. He didn’t want to hear a whisper, per-trial, during, or afterward.” He allowed himself a very small smile. “Simonetti never realized what had happened but suddenly the lawyers told him Forest wouldn’t be available for any interviews. According to Dobey, he was livid. Which made our captain very happy.”

“I never knew any of this, Starsk.” Hutch’s tone was subdued.

“You didn’t need to. They were trying to use you again and Dobey wasn’t about to let that happen.”

“I owe him even more than I thought, don’t I?”

“No, Hutch, this isn’t about owing anybody anything. It’s about what you need to know right now.”

Hutch appeared to digest what he’d been told. “You think Simonetti told Davenport everything?”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“Probably. If I hated me that much.”

Starsky’s smile turned teasing. “Always knew I loved you for more than your good looks, Blondie.”

Hutch returned the smile. He was silent for a while and Starsky waited patiently, knowing his partner was fully focused again. 

“So how’s this for a scenario?” Hutch finally began. “Davenport hates me and wants revenge for the failed gang sweep. Forest hates me and wants revenge for… well… I guess, everything. Make sense so far?”

“A bit repetitive, but I’m with you, partner.” 

“Forest needs to escape,” Hutch went on, “before he’s trapped in the prison computer system. He tells Shyster and Loosely --”

“Shuster and Leslie,” Starsky corrected, with a chuckle.

Hutch accepted the interruption with his own chuckle and a nod. “He tells Shuster and Leslie to find somebody in the department that’s willing to tell them everything they want to know about us. Somehow they find Davenport.”

“Wouldn’t have been all that difficult. Good ‘ol Fred’s never been reluctant to tell anyone what rotten, corrupt cops he thinks we are. You, especially.”

“Right. So the lawyers find Davenport and get him onboard with Forest’s AWOL plan. Wonder what a check of his financial records would show?”

“First thing we’ll ask for on the warrant.”

“Davenport tells them Dobey’ll want us out of town as soon as it’s known Forest has walked. Tells them where Dobey’ll more than likely send us.”

“Forest has two weeks to round up a new gang of thugs,” Starsky continued the thought seamlessly, “get up there, become best buddies with Herm, scout the area, learn the roads, cook up the fire scenario…” He paused to take a breath. 

Hutch went right on. “Find the best spot to ambush the real firefighters, dress up in their gear, and herd us over the ridge. Someone, possibly Coopersmith, hired the other two guys who brought the van to the transfer site.” He shook his head ruefully. “And here we are.”

“Here we are.”

Hutch was silent again but was very plainly thinking now, not simply worrying. “I was wondering why Dobey seemed so uptight when he was explaining Forest’s disappearing act.” He looked appraisingly at Starsky. “He had a lot more vested in the situation than I ever realized.”

“He did.”

“He went to bat for me and I never even knew it.” 

“Dobey went to bat for both of us.” Starsky held his partner’s not-quite-fully-Hutch-again-yet gaze; workin’ on it though. “He knew I wouldn’t be worth shit if anything happened to you.” 

*******

Dobey did his best to control his roiling emotions. He had enough faith to believe that God wouldn’t allow his detectives to die unless it was part of His infinite plan. And Dobey prayed that such was not the case. 

He and Sheriff Ward had talked about what Jerry had told them. They had batted ideas back and forth but until they had more concrete information they were only wasting their breath. They’d fallen silent at last while the miles rolled under the Crown Vic’s wheels. It was a long way across the county to the Crossroads Diner.

“Starsky and Hutchinson are special to you, aren’t they, Captain?” Ward posed the question into the extended silence. 

“You could say that.”

“I’ll just bet they’re a handful sometimes though, right?” 

Dobey tried unsuccessfully to hide a smile. “You could say that.”

“I got that impression from the only time I saw them up here, after that cult thing.” Ward grinned. “A flashy red car, brash, irreverent attitude, not willing to take the kind of shit our mountain ‘good ol’ boys’ dish out.”

“And I’m sure that was just Starsky.”

Ward laughed. “And the other one?”

“Starsky’s other half. Hutch balances, guides and supports Starsky in every way. Except when they switch roles for some unknown and sometimes unfathomable reason. Then they’re exactly the opposite. Whatever the case though, they have each other’s back. Always.”

“They’re that close?” 

“Closer. I’ve never seen a partnership like it. And I’m sure I never will again.” He held Ward’s doubtful look for as long as the sheriff could spare it from the road. “I have to get them back, Sheriff.”

“We’ll find them, Captain.”

*******

“I think they made a mistake, Hutch.”

“Tell me.” 

“They counted on the fire to create so much havoc in the area nobody would start looking for us for a long time. Of course once the fire was contained and investigators could go through the ashes of the cabin, they’d know we weren’t there. They’d eventually find the Torino and rescue vehicles on the other side of the ridge. Maybe burned up, maybe not. The real fire fighters have to be somewhere. Or their bodies do.” 

Starsky wasn’t completely sure he was making sense. Hutch nodded though, so maybe he was. “Everything would be chaos for quite a while, days maybe. I’m sure Forest thought nobody would put the fire together with us being missing. But…” he paused for a breath. “He forgot about Dobey.”

“Dobey’ll work it out.”

“You bet. The minute he heard about the fire he was probably on his way up. He’ll get the Sheriff and everyone else involved in a search. When you add it all up, it’s a little too coincidental, just like you said when we were being herded up the mountain.” He shrugged. “Don’t forget, Dobey’s one of the best, too.”

Hutch tried a smile, strained though it clearly was. “He sure is.”

“He’ll figure whoever’s behind this has to have had help from someone in the department. It just doesn’t make sense any other way. And knowing you and Davenport almost came to blows over the gang sweep, he’ll know where to start looking. I’d say Good Ol’ Fred is likely to be in a whole boatload of trouble.”

“If Davenport knows where Forest is taking us,” Hutch had animation in his voice again, “The captain might even get there before we do.”

“I wouldn’t count on that, partner,” Starsky cautioned. “But I would hold onto the idea that the cavalry’ll be coming. It might not be much of a plan, but it’s all we’ve got for right now. We have to hang on, Hutch.”

“Rescue ourselves, if possible, but hang on no matter what.”

*******

Dobey and Ward sat at a tiny table in the Crossroads Diner. A surly waitress brought them each a Coke, no glass, no straw, no napkin.

“I’m guessing…” Dobey pitched his voice so that it reached the people at the other tables and behind the counter, “they don’t see too many big city cops in this neck of the woods. Much less fat, black ones.” He returned the sullen stares. “Am I right, Sheriff?”

Ward nodded. “You’d be right about that, Captain.” He put a hand lightly on the waitress’ wrist. “We need some information, Cheryl. If we get what we want we’ll go away. You’ll probably never see us again.”

“And, if you don’t?” She curled a lip and cocked her fists on her hips.

“I’ll make sure every deputy in this county spends all his free time in your fine establishment.” 

“You can’t! That’d ruin me!”

“Possibly,” the sheriff said.

Cheryl’s posture slumped. “What d’ you wanna know?” 

Ward looked at Dobey. “This is your party, Captain.”

“Thank you, Sheriff.” Dobey turned to the fuming waitress. “We believe an old delivery van came through here either very late last night or early this morning. It came down Route Thirty-Three.”

“Yeah,” she admitted. “It stopped here.” 

Dobey’s heart actually skipped a beat. “Tell us everything you remember. What color was it? Did you see a license plate? Who was in it? Did you hear anything that was said? And most importantly, which way did it go?”

“Gee,” she sneered. “Is that all?” She turned on her heel and was about to flounce away. 

Ward grabbed her wrist in a firmer hold. With his other hand he pulled a chair around from an adjacent table. “Sit down, Cheryl. We’re not playing games here. Answer the man’s questions.” 

She swallowed and sat, hanging on to belligerence. “What were they again?” 

“I’m sorry I threw everything at you at once, Cheryl.” She shrugged off his apology. “What time did the van get here?” 

“About five.”

“You work an all-day shift?” Dobey was genuinely surprised.

“I work an all-day, all-night shift, Mr. Big City Cop.” Her surliness was in full bloom. “I sleep a few hours when it slows down, late morning. Other than that I’m here all the time.”

“I’m very sorry,” Dobey said, truthfully.

“Be sorry for yourself,” she snapped. “I got no complaints.”

“What color was the van?” Dobey asked, needing to get back on track.

“White. At least it used to be. Now it’s kinda slushy color. Had some sort of flower delivery service name on the side, ‘Delmonico’s’ maybe, but it faded a long time ago.” She smirked. “That’s not what you wanna know about the van though. They had a serious overheating problem and had to let the radiator cool off for almost two hours before the tall, bearded guy -- I think his name was George -- could get the cap off.” She laughed sharply. “You shoulda heard the cussin’.” 

“How many men?” Dobey asked. 

“Who says they were all men?” The sheriff nailed her with a stern look, took out a pad of paper and a pen and started making notes. She wilted. “Okay, four. They didn’t all come in at the same time though.”

“Describe them for us. Please?” Dobey resisted taking out his own notebook; Ward was doing a good job.  
]  
“Tryin’ to look like hunters. But they couldn’t pull it off any better this morning than they did last week.” 

“Last week?” Dobey almost choked on the question. “They were here last week?”

“Yeah.” She nodded as if it were no big deal. “Not in that van though. They came in an old pickup truck. Mel was with ‘em.”

Ward looked up. “Mel who?” 

“Mel Coopersmith, o’ course.” She didn’t try to keep sass out of her tone.

“His name’s Herman,” Ward snapped. “He’s my fiancé’s brother.”

“Middle name’s Melville.” She arched her eyebrows, obviously enjoying telling them something they didn’t know.

“New one on me,” Ward muttered.

“He hated bein’ called Herman or Herm. Who wouldn’t?” 

Ward nodded. “Go on, please. Describe the men.”

She thought for a moment. Dobey sipped his Coke, doing his best to curb his impatience. “The leader was almost… uppity. Squinty eyes. Thin lips, snarled all the time. Treated the others like dirt. Wore his clothes like he was too good for ‘em. Heard the bearded guy call him Ben.” 

Dobey closed his eyes. This whole situation was beginning to make sense and he was very much afraid Starsky and Hutch were in even worse trouble than he’d feared.

“Did you or anyone here talk to them?” Ward was scribbling quickly. 

“‘Course we did. They came in and had breakfast while they were waiting. Well, the leader came in, the others traipsed back and forth a few times, taking a couple of trays out to the van, bringing the empty plates back. Checkin’ the radiator. Stuff like that.”

Dobey could hardly believe his ears; Starsky and Hutch had been given something to eat! That meant Forest wanted them in decent condition. At least for a while. “Did you get the license plate?”

“California, but no idea of a number. We don’t take credit cards so I didn’t need it.”

“Did they say anything about where they were going?” he pressed.

“Not that I heard.” She was getting surly again.

“What about the other three men, Cheryl?” Ward flipped over to a fresh page. “Can you describe them?”

“The three besides Ben were a mix. George, the bearded one, was tall and skinny. Looked mean. He was the one workin’ on the radiator and cussin’.” She sniffed as if she’d heard better.

“The last two?” the sheriff prodded.

“Coulda been brothers but it didn’t look like they were bein’ very brotherly. The sneaky-lookin’ one was raggin’ on the other about joinin’ the party, havin’ some fun. The sullen one spent a long time in the men’s room when he wasn’t out in the van.”

“You said they had breakfast,” Dobey reminded her. “All four of them?”

“No, I told you,” she retorted, irritation plain in her face and voice again. “They took two trays with omelet plates out to the van. So it was six, total.” She preened. “My cook makes the best ham and cheese omelets in three counties.”

“What else did they buy?” Dobey asked next.

“Gas. After the radiator was fixed they pulled to the pump an’ took near fifty gallons. Best sale we’ve had all month.”

“Did they buy anything else?” Ward was still writing.

“Couple extra cans of Stop Leak. Two gallon jugs of water. Candy bars, chips, sodas, cookies. I heard George say they were gonna have to drive slower than normal so the radiator didn’t overheat again. They’d need to take snacks with ‘em.” She thought for a moment, shrugged. “The snake-eyed fucker wasn’t a cop though. I’d bet my last cent on that.”

Dobey shot a look at Ward who had stopped writing in mid-word. “What do you mean by that, Cheryl?” Dobey asked.

“The surly brother paid for everything when it was all totaled up.” She looked smug and frightened at the same time. “He put a badge folder on the counter, open, so that the shield and I.D. were plain to see, while he took money out of two separate wallets. He had an ugly grin on his face. Seemed like he was tryin’ to impress me but I wasn’t buyin’ it.”

“Did you see a name on the I.D.?” Dobey asked

“Didn’t wanna look that close. I just rang up the sale.”

“What time did they leave, and which way did they go?” Ward repeated the earlier questions.

She considered them both, clearly trying to decide whether or not to continue her attitude. “Why you wanna know all this stuff, anyway?”

“Two of my detectives were in the back of that van,” Dobey told her. “They’d been kidnapped by the man you called Ben. He’s going to kill them.”

“Just like he killed Herman Coopersmith,” Ward added.

The blood drained out of Cheryl’s face and she put her hand to her mouth. “Mel’s dead?” Tears gathered in her eyes and overflowed. She didn’t try to stop them. “Why would they kill that poor man?”

“I didn’t realize you knew him that well,” Ward said.

“He’d come over here whenever his sister got to be too much for him. He wasn’t very nice to most people, I guess, but he was always sweet to me. I can’t believe he’s dead.”

“There’s nothing I can do for Mel Coopersmith.” Dobey didn’t want to gloss over her sorrow but he needed her continued help. “With your help though, maybe I can still get my men back alive.”

She visibly wilted. “They left about eight. Took Five-Ninety-Two.” She pointed east.

Dobey got up, took his wallet from his pocket, removed a five and put it on the table. “Thank you, Cheryl.”

“The Sheriff’s Department thanks you, too.” Ward stood up.

Dobey held the door for the sheriff and followed him out.

“Fifty gallons of gas,” Dobey mused, on the way to the sheriff’s car. “The van might get, what, ten miles per?”

“If that.”

“They could be five hundred miles or more from here before they have to stop again.” Dobey couldn’t hide his depression.

“Cheer up, Captain.” Ward was suddenly, unexpectedly upbeat. “My cousin, Wade, is the sheriff of the county east of here.” He stopped at the car, actually smiling at Dobey. “He won’t care if we storm all over his jurisdiction searching for your men. In fact, I know he’ll do everything he can to help.” 

Dobey couldn’t believe it, here was hope again; he got in the car. Wade got behind the wheel and reached for his mic. “Unit One to base.” 

“Go ahead, Sheriff,” the dispatcher responded.

“Captain Dobey and I are on our way to Wade’s, Marsha. We’ve got a positive ID on the van and know the direction it was headed. Tell everybody who’s not actually supposed to be on duty, and who’s not involved with the fire cleanup, to go on home. The Captain and I’ll take it from here.”

“Thank everyone for me, please, Marsha,” Dobey added, loudly.

“I will, sir. And you’re welcome. We all hope you find them, safe.” 

“Marsha,” Ward continued, “will you call Jane, please? Tell her where I’m headed and that I may not make it back tonight. I’ll call her as soon as I can.”

“Will do, Sheriff.”

“Thanks. And you go home, too!”

“Yes, sir!


	6. Chapter 6

“I never asked you,” Starsky said into a long silence. “What did Kiko say about why they didn’t meet us at the usual place that morning?”

Hutch smiled at the memory. “He said there was a new girl in school and he talked Molly into walking past her house. It was way out of the way but they left really early.”

“The girl lived in the Sixth?” 

“No. But they had to walk through a corner of it to get there.”

“Molly went along with this idea?”

“Kiko told her the girl’s brother played semi-pro baseball. She could talk to him while Kiko entertained the girl.”

“Poor Molly.” Starsky shook his head fondly. “A sophomore in high school and still carrying that baseball glove with her everywhere she went.”

Hutch swallowed hard. “That little detour nearly earned them a juvenile jacket.”

“Kiko never hooked up with the girl, did he?” 

“Nope.” 

“Too bad. Molly would have loved having a ballplayer to talk to.”

*******

Charlie hung up his radio mic. “You heard, Captain. Wade’ll be waiting for us as soon as we can get to his office.”

“How long?” Dobey was doing his best to maintain his professional persona. His men had been in Forest’s hands for too many hours. Anything could have happened.

“Soon.” Wade accelerated. He turned on his siren and hit the switch for the roof’s light bar.

“May I use your radio, Sheriff?” 

Wade gestured toward it. “Be my guest.”

Dobey took the mic and keyed it. “This is BCPD Captain Dobey, calling base.”

“Go ahead, Captain. This is Henrietta, Marsha’s finally gone home.”

“Could you please call my department? I need to speak to Detective Simmons or Babcock.” He gave her the number.

“I’ll patch them through as soon as I reach them, Captain.”

Dobey held the mic in his lap while he mentally sorted facts and possibilities. Forest’s lawyers had to have orchestrated this whole thing. And they had to have had help from inside the department. As much as he hated the thought, he couldn’t get around it. It was someone who knew Ben Forest had escaped because that information hadn’t been made public yet. Someone who knew Dobey would want to get Starsky and Hutch out of town until Forest was recaptured. Someone who knew about Pine Lake. It had to be someone who hated Starsky and Hutch and could have hooked up with Forest and his lawyers. Simonetti had retired. He had hated Starsky and Hutch enough to have been involved in this but he was in Florida. Who was the guy he’d groomed though? The guy who’d taken his place in I.A. He’d had a run in with Hutch a few years back. Fred something. Starsky always joked about his surname. Davenport! That was it. Fred Davenport. 

*******

Hutch woke up from his light doze when he felt the van come to a stop. He nudged his partner’s foot. 

“‘m awake.” 

The light coming in from the front could have been late afternoon. They’d driven, albeit slowly, all day. Even with the reduced speed though, they’d had to stop at a middle-of-nowhere out-of-business-and-boarded-up gas station to cool the radiator again and add more Stop Leak. 

He and Starsky had been given a drink of water. Sam had offered to feed each of them some chips but both had declined. Hutch realized that Forest had plans requiring they both be in relatively good condition but wasn’t sure he wanted to know what those plans were. Now with the van stopped yet again Hutch had the feeling he was going to find out.

The back doors were pulled open and Hutch squinted into the beam of a very bright flashlight. Closing his eyes he turned his head away. He didn’t bother to complain because he knew it would be pointless. Someone climbed into the van and the rope binding his feet to Starsky’s was cut. The strap across his chest was next. He was dragged to the back and dumped on the ground outside. 

“Get him into the house.” The unforgettable voice had a harder edge than it had at any time he’d heard it during the day and it sent a chill up Hutch’s spine. He made absolutely sure however that no emotion showed on his face.

Two pairs of hands roughly picked Hutch up and stood him on his feet. He opened his eyes and stared at Ben Forest, thanking his partner silently for the information he’d shared. “Good t’ see you again, Ben.” Hutch stifled a nearly convincing yawn. “Nifty way you walked right out of maximum security.”

“I thought you might be impressed, Hutchinson.”

Wiley dragged Starsky out of the van and threw him on the ground. 

“Get them both inside,” Forest ordered.

Wylie hauled Starsky to his feet and shoved him up the porch steps. George grabbed Hutch’s arm tightly, hauled him up the stairs and unlocked the front door. He opened it and stood aside. Leaning against each other’s shoulders, Hutch and Starsky walked in.

*******

Sheriff Wade’s patrol car raced east on Route Five-Ninety-Two.

Inside, Dobey was trying to make himself understood over a static-ridden radio with a siren screaming above his head. “You heard me, Babcock. Go to Judge Kyle, he knows I’d never ask for a frivolous warrant.”

“You want Fred Davenport’s phone records for the last six months?” Babcock sounded shocked. “The Fred Davenport of Internal Affairs?”

“That’s right! Home and office. Car phone, too, if he has one.”

“Yes sir.”

“We need to know if he’s been in contact with Ben Forest’s lawyers. If he has, how often? I want the dates of all calls.”

“Geez, Cap’n, you think he could have been involved in Forest’s escape?”

“I never said that, Babcock! And I don’t want you even breathing that thought.”

“No, sir, of course not.”

“Just get the warrant.” Dobey relented a little. “Then get the records. And Babcock…”

“Yes, sir?”

“Simmons is the only other person who can know about this for now. Make sure Judge Kyle keeps his staffs’ lips buttoned, too. Davenport can’t be allowed to find out that I suspect he’s dirty. He’ll run. And we might never find Starsky and Hutch.”

“You really think he knows where they are, Cap?” 

“I’m hoping he does.” Dobey was suddenly very tired. “Just get those records, then you and Simmons check them carefully.”

“It’s late, Captain,” Babcock pointed out. “Even if the warrant comes through tonight we won’t be able to get the records until sometime tomorrow.”

“I know.” Dobey tried to inject some energy into his voice. “As soon as you can. Starsky and Hutch’s lives could depend on it.”

“Yes, sir. Simmons’ll get it typed up while I track down Judge Kyle.”

“Thanks. I’ll be with Sheriff Ward. We’re on our way to his cousin’s, the Sheriff of Campbell County. I’ll call you from there.”

“Talk to you then, Captain.” 

Dobey hung up the mic.

“I hope you’re wrong, Captain Dobey.” Ward took his eyes off the road for only a moment. “I really hate to hear about bad cops.”

“Not nearly as much as I do, Sheriff.”

*******

Hutch opened his eyes but the nightmare hadn’t gone away. He was sitting on the floor of a room that must have been twenty feet in both directions, probably the house’s master bedroom. It was on the second floor, in the northwest corner of the building. The sunset through the west window was painting the room in glorious colors.

He and Starsky had been pushed up a wide staircase as soon as they’d gotten in the house. They had been shoved into this room, the first one at the top of the stairs. Starsky had been forced to the far side of the room. No one had said a word.

Hutch’s handcuffs had been removed and George had prodded him, by the barrel of his own weapon, into a bathroom. Amazingly, he’d been allowed to relieve himself for the second time. Hutch couldn’t imagine why Forest was being so accommodating. It was unlikely he’d care if his prisoners soiled themselves. Not questioning his good fortune, he had taken the opportunity. Who knew when or if he’d ever get another. 

While he was zipping up, he had rammed his shoulder into George, driving the bearded man into the shower stall. Before Hutch could grab the Python though, he was hit on the back of the head. It hadn’t been hard enough to knock him out completely but it had sent him to his knees and allowed George to scramble out of the shower and kick him in the ribs. 

Forest stood just inside the doorway, a smug look on his face, an automatic dangling from his right hand. Hutch knew he’d been the one that had hit him.

George had dragged Hutch out of the bathroom and thrown him against the wall. His head had impacted exactly where Forest had struck him. While he was fighting to remain conscious, his right ankle had been enclosed in a shackle attached to a length of heavy gauge chain. The chain was already secured to the floor by a large ring bolt. 

When Hutch’s vision had cleared somewhat he had seen Starsky, still handcuffed, on the other side of the room, backed against the wall. Wiley had Starsky’s Beretta jammed in his partner’s side. Hutch could tell the guy was hoping Starsky would try something like Hutch just had. Hutch shook his head. 

Starsky nodded. He had then been marched to the bathroom, George and Wiley on either side of him. 

Hutch had tested the strength of his shackle, chain and bolt. He had found all three sturdy and probably unbreakable. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t try.

Starsky had been taken to the other side of the room where the handcuffs had been re-secured in front of him. The cuffs had then been attached to a chain which ran over a huge hook in the ceiling. His wrists were pulled up until only his toes were touching the floor and the chain had been tied off on the wall. 

Hutch had known his partner was almost certainly trying to fight off memories of Simon Marcus’ followers and the old zoo.

George and Wiley had checked the two sets of restraints carefully, nodding to Forest. Gesturing for the others to follow, Forest had left the room. Sam had stood at the side, saying and doing nothing during the entire procedure. He had gone out last, closing the door behind him.

Hutch shook off the memories and fought down dizziness, realizing he must have passed out for a few minutes.

“Welcome back, partner.” Starsky smiled at him from twenty feet away.

Hutch was no longer able to ignore the object in the center of the room, an ordinary bare wood table with a top and four legs. The legs were bolted to the floor with angle irons. In the middle of the table was a Bunsen burner, a soup spoon, a box of matches, a length of rubber tubing… and a hype kit. Hutch instinctively knew that the length of chain securing him to the floor was long enough to allow him to reach the table but no longer. He couldn’t get to his partner, the bathroom, or the windows. Only the table. With its alluring objects. 

What had he told Starsky the day before? Something about if he was offered a fix he might take it? Well the choice was there now and he simply wasn’t as sure of himself as he wanted to be.

“I know you, Hutch.” 

Starsky’s soft voice penetrated Hutch’s fear and he looked across at his partner, whose smile had become blazingly, lovingly compassionate. 

“What’s our plan?” Starsky asked.

“Hang on.” Trying to put as much positive feeling into the words as possible, Hutch added, “no pun intended, Starsk.” 

“‘Hang on…’” Starsky sang through a dry throat. “‘Help is on its way’.” 

“Little River Band. Good song.”

Footsteps sounded through the door to the hallway, climbing the stairs. Forest, George, Wylie and Sam came into the room. They’d all changed their clothes. Wylie was wearing Starsky’s gun and holster, jury-rigged with rope and tape in order to accommodate right-handedness.

“Wylie, check Starsky’s restraints,” Forest ordered. With a wicked smile, The Sly One hurried to do as instructed. “George,” Forest turned to the bearded man, “check Hutchinson’s. Then go keep Starsky company.” 

The gaunt one, wearing Hutch’s holster and weapon, did as directed. Giving Hutch’s ankle a kick when he finished, he crossed to stand next to Starsky, on his right.

“Sam.” Forest looked at the third member of his gang. “Just stay out of the way.”

Forest had exchanged his hunter’s garb for his more usual well-tailored suit and accessories. He even wore a hat similar to the one he had had on the day Hutch and Starsky had arrested him. He was every inch the drug lord they’d sent to prison six years before. Only the look in his eyes had changed. Now there wasn’t even a glimmer of humanity. 

“To business.” Forest walked to the table and appeared to study each of the items thoroughly before looking at Hutch. “You have complete control over what happens from now on, Hutchinson.” Forest paused for only a moment before continuing smoothly. “If you come over here, cook up a fix, and inject yourself, I will allow your partner to leave.”

Hutch held the evil man’s gaze and said nothing.

“I know you, Hutch,” Starsky whispered.

George spun and punched Starsky in the stomach.

Starsky gasped and drew his knees up as much as possible, his face tightening in pain.

Hutch sat up straighter and glared at Forest.

“You’ll only be given a finite amount of time to make your decision,” Forest went on, as if there had been no interruption. “I have a schedule to keep and I’m running late.”

Hutch closed his eyes so he didn’t see George hit Starsky again. He heard it though and it sounded harder this time. Hutch snapped his eyes open and locked them on Starsky. 

As soon as Starsky could look at him he shook his head slowly back and forth. George hit him a third time.

“This will continue,” said Forest, “until you take the fix.”

“You’d never let him go.” Hutch forced the words out of his dry throat.

Starsky writhed, setting himself spinning from his wrists. “No, Hutch!”

George struck again.

“Stop it!” Hutch shouted, in spite of himself.

“You know how to make it stop, Hutchinson.” Forest stared at him. “Simply crawl over here, the chain is exactly the right length, and do it.” He took a step away from the table. “I want to watch. It was my one fantasy in prison. You, on your knees, voluntarily shooting up.”

“You’d never let him go.”

“Of course I would. You’re the one I want. Hooked on my horse for the rest of your miserable life.” He gestured toward Starsky. “I don’t give a shit about him.”

“He’d find you.”

“He might try.” Forest dismissed the possibility with a wave of his hand. “But I guarantee he’d never succeed. I’m about to disappear. I only stayed around this long in order to get you.” He walked to the doorway, turned and looked back at Hutch. “I’m going to let George and Wylie beat on your partner for a while. Call me when you change your mind.” He left the room, closing the door behind him.

George hit Starsky. Then Wylie did. 

Hutch closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Starsk. I’m so sorry.”


	7. Chapter 7

When Dobey and Charlie reached Campbell County Sheriff’s Department headquarters, Sheriff Wade Ward was busy unscrambling a stolen car misunderstanding involving numerous loud, gesticulating members of a large, clearly unhappy family.

“Is there somewhere I can call my precinct, and my wife?” Dobey asked Charlie. 

Charlie led him to what appeared to be an unoccupied records room. “Dial nine for an outside line.” Charlie closed the door behind him.

First Dobey called Babcock and Simmons, hoping the Sheriff’s Department wouldn’t mind paying for the call.

“The phone company says they’ll have Davenport’s records to us by noon tomorrow, Captain,” Babcock reported, not bothering with preliminaries.

“That’s the best they can do?” Dobey tried to dampen his frustration.

“It’s three separate lines, Cap,” Simmons explained. “And hundreds of calls over six months.”

“I know.” Dobey apologized with his tone of voice. “Here’s the number where you can reach me.” He read the first seven digits off the dial on the phone he was using. “It’s the Sheriff’s office in Campbell County. Call me just as soon as you’ve checked those records, Babcock.”

“Yes, sir, count on it.”

Dobey disconnected, dialed ‘nine’ again and asked for the long distance operator. He placed a collect call to Edith. When she accepted the charges, Dobey could tell from her voice that, for all her positive attitude that morning, she had spent a very anxious day. “Hi, Honey.” He put as much cheer in his voice as possible.

“Are you all right, Harold? Where are you? Have you found them yet, dear?” She didn’t breathe between words.

“Not yet, but we’re on the right track. I’m at the sheriff’s station in Campbell County. Charlie Ward’s cousin, Wade Ward, is the sheriff here.”

“That’s confusing.”

“You’re telling me?” Dobey chuckled. “Anyway, Sheriff Charlie tells me his cousin will give us his full cooperation.”

“What are you doing in Campbell County, Harold? That’s a long way from Pine Lake.”

“We found out that Starsky and Hutch left the cabin, probably because of the fire, which was deliberately set by the way.” He heard Edith gasp. “Our place is fine, sweetheart. Rain put the flames out before they got there.”

“I’m so glad.” 

“Starsky and Hutch were captured by four men on the other side of the ridge, transferred to an old van, and driven in this direction.”

“Oh, dear…”

“It’s Ben Forest, Edith.” His wife said nothing. “I know,” Dobey answered her silence. “I couldn’t believe it at first either.”

“Are you sure, sweetheart?”

“As sure as I can be without seeing the bastard myself.”

“Why would he take them so far away?” 

Dobey realized that was a very good question. “No idea, honey. But this is where the trail leads. I am going to find them, you know that don’t you?”

“Of course, Harold. But more importantly, they know it, too.”

Charlie stuck his head in the door. “Wade’s ready for us, Captain.”

“I have to go, Edith. I’ll call you back as soon as I can. Kiss the kids for me.”

She laughed. “Even though they’ll both say they’re too old for that kind of foolishness, I will. Take care, dear.”

“You, too.” He hung up and followed Charlie out of the room.

When Dobey walked into Wade Ward’s office behind Charlie, the sheriff handed each of them a cup of coffee before extending his hand to Dobey. “Wade Ward.”

Dobey shook the firm hand. “Harold Dobey.”

Wade gestured to two chairs in front of his desk and Dobey and Charlie sat. Picking up his own mug, Wade went behind his desk and sat down.

Dobey studied this new lawman over the rim of his cup. Wade Ward looked a great deal like his cousin but seemed more open and less suspicious than Charlie had initially been. Both fit Dobey’s image of cowboys: tall, even discounting the three inch heels on their boots, lean, weathered, eagle-eyed and rough-hewn. Wade had a glint in his eyes his cousin didn’t have and Dobey liked him instinctively.

“Charlie tells me you were talking to your detectives in the city, Captain. Is that right?”

“That’s correct, Sheriff. I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t call collect.”

Wade shrugged exaggeratedly. “Least we can do.”

Dobey nodded his appreciation. “Babcock and Simmons, they’re the best I’ve got, next to Starsky and Hutchinson…” He had to take a swallow of coffee to dislodge the lump that had caught in his throat. “Babcock said they’ll have the phone records for the man I suspect is involved, tomorrow. By noon at the latest, according to the phone company’s promise. I gave them the number here.”

“Perfect.” Wade drank a few swallows of coffee. “Now, while you were making your call, Charlie caught me up on what we know so far. I’ve just sent all my deputies out with a description of the van to talk to everybody they can find along Five-Ninety-Two. If anybody saw it we’ll know.”

“Of course, Wade’s county is about twice the size of mine, Cap’n,” Charlie said. “And it probably has hundreds of farms and homes in remote areas. We’d have to get awfully lucky.”

“Then we’ll get lucky!” Wade slammed his fist onto the desk. “I’m a believer, Cousin. You know that. The captain’s men are in my jurisdiction now and we’ll by damn find them or I’m not the law in this god forsaken territory!”

Dobey couldn’t help but be impressed.

“Now, Captain,” Wade went on. “Cousin Charles always stays with me when he’s in my town. I’m assuming you’ll avail yourself of the same hospitality?” 

“I didn’t even know I’d be in your county, Sheriff. I’m at your service, your disposal, and your mercy.”

“Good!” Wade sounded as happy as it was possible to be under the circumstances. “My deputies have my home number. If we get a lead tonight, or when we hear from your Detectives Babcock and Simmons, tomorrow, we’ll know what to do. In the meantime…” He stood up and grabbed his hat. “Let’s go home. You two look bushed. I don’t know about you but I could use a good hot meal and a soft bed. When I knew you two were coming this way, I asked my housekeeper to make us a meatloaf!”

Charlie looked at Dobey with a grin. “Didn’t I tell you he’d be okay with this?”

*******

Starsky was finally unconscious. Hutch had almost literally felt every blow that had been dealt to his best friend’s body. It had been the most difficult thing he’d ever done but he had managed not to crawl to the table. All he had wanted to do was stop his partner’s torment because he didn’t give a flying fuck what happened to him afterward. He knew, however, that Starsky would care. He’d care so much it would tear him apart. If Forest did indeed let him go. And there was no guarantee of that.

Forest, George and Wylie had left when it was obvious they would get no more enjoyment out of the punishment, and Hutch wasn’t going to succumb. Yet. Sam, told to remain and keep watch, was sitting in an old leather armchair next to the bathroom door, apparently asleep.

The dim ceiling light had been left on, probably so that Sam could keep an eye on the prisoners. The westering moon cast sharp shadows into the room, meaning the storm must have passed completely, taking the clouds with it.

Hutch started working on the bolt in the floor again, having determined that it had been screwed down tight, but that the floorboard itself wasn’t all that sound. He hoped that by putting as much back and forth pressure on the eye as he could the long shaft might be loosened in the wood. He intended to work at it whenever their captors weren’t directly watching him.

“Hutch?” 

Hutch felt, more than heard the sound. “I’m here, Starsk.”

“You didn’t do it…. Right?”

“No.”

“Thank you.” 

Mental agony tore through Hutch. How can he thank me? He’s hanging there like a side of beef and it’s all my fault. 

“‘s not your fault,” Starsky muttered, reading his mind. “An’ no matter what they do… don’t give in, babe.” His breaths were shallow and unmistakably pain-filled. “No matter what.”

“I’ll try, Starsk.”

“Good. Gonna sleep now. Think I’m gonna need it.”

*******

Dobey came downstairs at Wade’s house in the morning, ready to confront whatever the day brought. He’d slept reasonably well and, although he’d had to put the same suit back on, a shower first, a shave, then clean underwear and a fresh shirt had helped immensely. When he got to the kitchen, both cousins were already there, cups of coffee in hand. Charlie was leaning against a counter and Wade was on the phone.

Wade gestured Dobey toward the Mr. Coffee machine while he listened to someone on the other end of the line. Dobey poured himself a cup and sat at the table.

“That’s great, Dale, keep going.” Wade hung the receiver onto the base unit on the wall and sat down. “One of my deputies talked to the McKenzies who live about twenty miles east of here. They said they saw the van yesterday afternoon and it was headed toward Bent Cross.”

“How far does your county extend in that direction, Sheriff?”

“About a hundred miles. All the way to Nevada.”

“I hope they haven’t gone that far,” Charlie commented.

The phone rang and Wade jumped to answer it. “Ward here.” After listening for a moment, he held the receiver out to his cousin. 

Charlie got up and took the instrument. “Ward here.” He sounded almost exactly like his cousin. “Yeah, Dean… that’s great!…. Caved in, did they?…” He listened. “We know that part…. Nothing else?… No idea where they were gonna take ‘em?… Shit! Okay, you did good. Throw ‘em in separate cells.” He hung up the phone and moved back to the table. “The Swayze brothers were the two guys in slickers. They say they were approached by a couple of lawyer types weeks ago and told what to do.” 

He finished his cup of coffee, got up and brought the pot to the table, refilling his own then the others’ cups . “They bought the van from a junk yard two counties over. Got it running again and fitted out with tie-down rails in the back. All they knew was that two guys were gonna be brought over the ridge and put in the van. Said they had no idea Herm Coopersmith was gonna get whacked.” He shrugged his wide shoulders in apparent futility. “The brothers got a grand a piece. Still had every dollar on them.”

“That’s fast work, Sheriff.” Dobey nodded his admiration.

“Thanks. Just wish the creeps had told my deputies something we didn’t already know.”

*******

Starsky couldn’t remember ever being in as much pain. After the Gunther shooting he’d been drugged to the gills until the worst of it was past. Here it was undiluted agony. His shoulders and wrists felt like they were on fire and he figured at least one rib on his right side was broken, possibly more. It didn’t feel like a lung had been punctured yet though. 

Most importantly, to Starsky’s way of thinking, Hutch was still hanging on. He knew his partner was in as much distress as he was, only Hutch’s was mental, undoubtedly blaming himself for everything. And there was really nothing Starsky could do about it except show him, every time Hutch would meet his eyes, that he loved him, believed in him, supported him, and willed him the courage to hold out. ‘Just don’t do what Forest wants, babe,’ he silently pleaded. ‘Don’t do it.’

“Cavalry’s comin’,” he managed to whisper. 

Hutch smiled feebly in reply.

Sam got up from his chair, unlocked the bathroom door and went in. A faucet was turned on and water filled something. He came out carrying a glass and walked to Hutch. 

Hutch shook his head. “Please give that to my partner.”

Sam hesitated a second before walking across the room. He held the glass gently against Starsky’s split, bleeding lips while he managed to swallow a little more than half the contents.

“Thanks, Sam. Give the rest to Hutch, okay?”

Sam walked to Hutch who took the glass and emptied it, handing it back. Footsteps on the stairs made Sam hurry to his chair. He hid the glass underneath just as Forest, George and Wylie came into the room. 

George came toward Starsky and immediately hit him in the face. Starsky’s head snapped back and he tasted blood. ‘Another tooth that’ll need a cap, just what my dentist lives for.’ 

He looked daggers at the tall thug, noticing the safety strap of Hutch’s holster wasn’t snapped. ‘Been practicing your fast draw, have you?’ He could picture the gangly bad guy prowling the woods he’d seen behind the house when they’d first arrived. He imagined George spinning and whipping the big gun out, terrifying some squirrel or crow. ‘If I could get my hand on those grips, I’d teach you not to be so arrogant.’

George kicked his toes out from under him and he began to swing, the next blow landing above his left kidney. ‘Oh, shit! That one really hurt.’ Starsky lost track of how many times he’d been struck, or who had done the hitting. He swung and twisted and did his best to ignore the pain.

“This ain’t gonna work, boss.” 

Starsky heard the words but didn’t know who had said them. Opening his eyes, he dragged his toes to stop spinning and kept himself facing his tormentors. Wylie was looking at the drug lord. 

“What do you suggest?” Forest sounded mildly interested.

“I read a book a few years ago.” He threw a dirty look at Sam in response to his brother’s huff. “I can read, ya know.”

“What about it?” Forest demanded.

“There was a really nasty piece of torture in it. If you’ll let me, I’ll drive into that town we came through yesterday, about ten miles back. Think I saw a sporting goods store.” He grinned wickedly. “I’ll need a dining room chair from downstairs, too. One of the armchairs.”

Starsky squinted, trying to guess what Wylie was talking about. And what Forest’s reaction to this strange gambit was going to be. 

It took a few moments, but Forest dug the keys out of his jacket pocket. “Don’t get lost,” he ordered, maliciously, handing them to Wylie. “And do not speed.”

*******

The phone rang in Wade’s office. “Ward here.” He listened for a moment. “Right, Hal, put him through.” Holding the receiver across the desk to Dobey, he moved the phone closer. “It’s one of your detectives.”

Dobey got up, almost grabbing the phone out of Wade’s hand. “Dobey.”

“It’s Babcock, Captain.” 

“Talk to me.”

“We’ve got him, sir.” Dobey could hear papers being shuffled. “Davenport’s phone records show dozens of calls to and from Forest’s lawyers’ offices over the past six months. Lots during the weeks before the escape. Fewer since. And get this,” he added, excitedly, “he made three calls last week to a number listed for the Pine Lake General Store Lodges.” 

“Go up to his office and get him, Babcock! Don’t arrest him yet. Put him in an interview room and don’t let anyone near him. He talks to nobody but you and Simmons. Tell him I said that if he tells you where Forest is holding Starsky and Hutchinson, I’ll make sure he gets the best deal possible.” Dobey took a deep breath. “If he doesn’t, I’ll bury him so deep he’ll never even see the basement again.”

“Yes, sir!” 

“Oh, and Babcock, what’s happening with Shuster and Leslie?”

“They’ve lawyered up, Cap’n.” Babcock chuckled. “Surprise, surprise.”

“Yeah. What a shock.”

“The searches haven’t turned up any information that points to a location in your area but Beverly Hills detectives are still looking. Simmons and I are headed up to Davenport’s office now. I’ll let you know when he talks.”

“Thanks, Babcock. Good work.” Handing the receiver back to Wade, who hung it up, Dobey sat down heavily. All three men picked up their coffee cups and drank. “What do we do now, Sheriff?” Dobey asked Wade.

“I know you’d like to be out there beating the bushes yourself, Captain.” Wade clearly understood Dobey’s anxiety. “But personally I think we should sit tight. For now. From here, we can move fast in any direction. All my deputies are out looking and talking to people. If there are any leads I guarantee they’ll find them.”

Dobey drank the last of his coffee. “I’m in your hands, Sheriff.”

Wade turned to his cousin. “What about you, Charlie? You goin’ home?”

“Naw, Cuz. I’m in this thing now and I want to see it through. The captain, here, got a bad deal in my county. I feel responsible.”

“No need, Sheriff,” Dobey said. “None of this was your fault.”

“That’s what Jane tried to tell me.” Charlie rolled his shoulders. “I didn’t buy it then, and I’m not buyin’ it now.”

*******

Deputy Joyce Andrews hurried into the Busy Bee Café in Bent Cross. It was her home town and she knew everyone in it. “Hi, Mom.”

Bee, the matronly lady behind the counter began pouring a cup of coffee. “What are you doing here at this time of the day, missy?” 

“Gotta question everybody in town.” Joyce tried to hide her excitement. It was her first real assignment since joining the department. “Two Bay City detectives have been kidnapped and the vehicle we’re looking for was seen on Five-Ninety-Two.” She sat at the counter and her mother put a cup of coffee in front of her. “I need to find out if anybody saw the van yesterday.” She dosed the cup with cream and two sugars before taking a sip.

“What does it look like?” Bee actually sounded interested.

“It’s a really old truck, someone said it’s called a step van. Probably used to be white but now it’s just old, like dirty snow. California plates but we don’t have the number. Oh yeah, it has a faded flower delivery service name on the side. Maybe ‘Delmonico’s’.”

“I saw that truck yesterday, and then again about half an hour ago.”

Joyce dropped her cup on the counter. “Are you shittin’ me?” 

“Joyce,” her mother admonished, “such language!”

Joyce hunched her shoulders. “Sorry, Mom, that just came out.” She sat up straight and grabbed a wad of napkins, wiping up the coffee she’d sloshed. “But seriously, have you see the van?”

“I said I had, didn’t I?” Her mother’s tone was now offended.

“Yes, ma’am,” Joyce responded, contrite. “Please tell me. This is really important, Mom.”

Bee Andrews relented and refilled her daughter’s cup. “It came through town late yesterday afternoon but I don’t think it stopped. I saw it while I was sweeping the sidewalk before dinner. Half an hour ago I saw it go right past the windows while I was bussing that table.” She gestured to a booth next to the door. “It parked in front of Jamie’s store.”

“The sporting goods place?” Her mother nodded. Joyce leaped off her stool and bolted out the door. She ran the half block to ‘James’ Sports,’ pulled the door open and hurried inside.

Jamie Smith was behind the glass handgun counter. His eyes lit up when he saw her come into his store. “Hey, Joyce, long time --”

She ran to the counter and leaned toward him. “Tell me about whoever was in the step van.”

He backed up a pace. “Whoa there, gal.” He put his hands up as if fending her off. “Slow down. Start from the beginning.”

She took a breath. “My mother says a dirty white van parked in front of your shop about thirty minutes ago. The driver came in here, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” he admitted. “Why, he do something wrong? You guys lookin’ for him?”

“Maybe. Tell me everything, Jamie. You can’t imagine how important this is.”

“Wanted to buy a tennis racket.”

“What?” She couldn’t hide her surprise.

“Right, that’s what I thought.” Jamie smiled. “Told him he didn’t look much like the tennis type to me.” His smile faded immediately. “He didn’t say anything, but he laughed.” Looking straight at Joyce, he had to swallow before he could get the next words out. “It was not a nice sound.”

“Did you sell him a racket?” Joyce asked, as patiently as possible. 

“Didn’t have one.” Jamie smiled again. “Sold him a badminton racket instead. An old one I’d had in the back for years. Told him it was almost the same thing.”

“How did he pay?”

“It was only five bucks, Joyce. Even with the roll of duck tape he wanted.” Jamie sounded as if it was the stupidest question he’d ever heard. “How d’ you think he paid?”

Joyce turned and hurried out the door, calling “Thanks, Jamie,” over her shoulder. She ran to her cruiser and slipped into the driver’s seat, picked up the mic and clicked the lever. “Unit fourteen to base. Come in, please.”

“Base to fourteen, go ahead, Joyce.”

“Patch me through to the sheriff, please Hal.” Joyce tried to catch her breath.

*******

Hutch worked at the ring bolt in the floor. George was amusing himself by beating on Starsky once in a while, keeping him spinning. His partner’s wrists were bleeding, as were his lips and a deep cut on his left cheek. His left eye was swollen shut and he seemed to be in and out of consciousness.

Forest had appropriated Sam’s armchair and was sitting, relaxed, apparently enjoying the spectacle. Sam stood by the west window looking out. The sound of the van screeching into the yard preceded by a few seconds the front door slamming open downstairs. Running footsteps went to the rear of the house before pounding back to the front and up the stairs.

Wylie charged into the room, triumph written all over his thin features. He carried a sturdy dining room chair in one hand, a roll of duck tape halfway up his forearm, and a racket in the other.

Hutch knew immediately what book Wiley had been talking about and his heart almost stopped. 

Forest got up and walked slowly to where Wylie had put the chair down near Starsky’s slowly revolving body. He put the roll of tape and racket on the table and dug his folding knife out of his pants pocket. Flicking the blade open, he began cutting the cane from the seat of the dining chair. “Wait ‘til you see this, Boss.”

Forest went to the table and picked up the old piece of sporting equipment. 

“I wanted a tennis racket but they didn’t have one,” Wylie explained, still cutting. “Got a badmitton, instead.”

“Badminton,” Forest corrected.

“What?” Wylie straightened up, confused.

“Badminton…” Forest repeated the word correctly. “Not badmitton. It’s named after the estate of a British duke, or earl. Or something.” 

“So?” Wylie sounded miffed. “It’s the same thing, right?”

“More or less.”

“Okay.” Wylie seemed satisfied. He looked at George, gesturing at Starsky. “Is he out?”

“I think so.” George studied his bloodied knuckles.

“Well, make sure! I don’t want him fighting me before I’m ready here.”

Hutch couldn’t tear his eyes away when George hit his partner, hard. Starsky’s head fell back and his body hung from his bleeding wrists. Hutch worked at the bolt.

Crouching at Starsky’s feet, Wylie removed the shoes and socks quickly. He stood up, unbuckled, unsnapped, unzipped and yanked the jeans and briefs down and off Starsky’s legs. “Willya lookit that?” he exclaimed with a nasty laugh. “I guess it’s true what they say about pain givin’ ya a hard on.”

George sneered. “You wanna try it, smarty?”

“After this is over, asshole,” Wylie snapped, “you and me are goin’ a round or two.”

“Get on with it,” Forest ordered. “Whatever you have in mind.”

Wylie turned to George. “Get him out of the cuffs.”

It was obvious that George didn’t like taking orders from Wylie. Looking at Forest for approval, he deliberately waited until the drug lord nodded. Only after that did George take the key from his pocket and unlock both wrists. 

“Sit him in the chair,” Wylie directed, taking Starsky’s left arm. 

George grabbed Starsky’s right arm and the two men dragged Starsky to the dining chair from which Wylie had cut the entire seat. They sat him in it and Wylie began taping Starsky’s forearms to the arms of the chair. He wrapped the duck tape snugly, taking several turns around elbows and wrists. Next he moved to Starsky’s legs and taped the knees to the corners of the seat and his ankles to the legs. More tape secured Starsky’s chest to the back.

Starsky’s naked genitals hung between his spread legs. 

Hutch drew his knees up and locked his arms around them, never taking his eyes off his unconscious partner. Soundlessly, he chanted his new mantra, ‘I’m sorry, Starsk, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.’


	8. Chapter 8

Sheriff Wade Ward had Deputy Joyce Andrews on speaker phone. Dobey and Charlie were crowded around his desk. “I’m calling from inside my mom’s cafe now, Sheriff. The Busy Bee in Bent Cross.”

“And you say this is the town where the van was spotted under an hour ago?” Wade’s voice was tense.

“Yes, sir! Jamie Smith,” she nodded to the store owner sitting next to her, “sold a badminton racket and a roll of duck tape to a man he describes as wiry and mean-eyed. He was driving a vehicle that sounds exactly like the one we’ve been looking for.”

Everybody in the office looked at each other. “If we weren’t sure it was the same van,” Wade said, “I’d think we had the wrong guy.”

“We don’t, Sheriff.” Dobey instinctively knew that they were on the right track. “We simply have no idea what he’s up to.”

“You’ll keep trying to find out where he went when he left there, right, Joyce?” Wade asked.

“Yes, sir. I drove in from the south forty-five minutes ago and the van didn’t pass me. So it must have gone east or north. Mom’s put the word out, everybody in town will probably be here soon. I’ll do my best to find somebody who has information.”

“Good work, so far, Joyce,” Wade told her. “Stay in touch.”

*******

Starsky came to more quickly than he let on. His head hurt worse than before but that wasn’t what grabbed his attention. His family jewels were dangling between his legs and he was immobile in an arm chair. ‘Fuck! I read this book. Bond, James Bond. Casino something. Casino Royale, that was it. Nasty piece o’ work, Fleming should never have written it. Oh well, Bond lived through it. I can, too.’

He groaned theatrically and opened his eyes. He didn’t care about a single soul in the room except his partner. Locking eyes with Hutch, he did his very best to convey love, support and even a little humor, trying to wink with his least damaged eye. ‘Bond made it and so will I, buddy. Hang in there with me.’

Wylie, his teeth bared in an evil grin, was crouched in front of him, the handle of the racket in his right hand. The front edge of the webbed portion was resting on the floor under Starsky’s chair. “You know what’s comin’, don’t ya, cop? I can see it in your panicky little piggy eyes.” Wylie didn’t try to hide his anticipation. “You’ve read the book.”

“Well,…” Starsky croaked through his bleeding lips. “Don’t think it was ‘From Russia with Love’.”

Wylie slammed the racket up into Starsky’s genitals.

Starsky screamed because he couldn’t help it and couldn’t contain it. He screamed again when Wylie repeated the movement only moments later. He’d never felt anything quite as instantly devastating in his life. It was a whole new definition and dimension of pain.

His eyes seemed screwed shut as the agony wracked him. Hard hands on his shoulders held him firmly in the chair and the chair solidly on the floor. His body jerked with spasms, completely out of his control. He wanted to look at Hutch, to let him know he was determined to make it through this, but he couldn’t pry his lids apart. Wylie smacked him with the racket repeatedly and Starsky continued to scream. Until blackness claimed him.

*******

The Busy Bee Café was crowded. At a central table, Joyce sat across from the Martin brothers, Larry and Barry, fraternal twins who had been in and out of trouble for as long as Joyce had known them. They were both short but Larry was lean and wiry with watery blue eyes and thinning light brown hair. Barry was rotund, with brown eyes behind dark rimmed glasses, and lank blond hair. At the moment, Larry appeared angry, Barry simply looked scared.

“A number of people here,” Joyce gestured around the room, “have told me you two worked on a house recently for some strangers. East of town. Is that right?”

“Yeah.” Larry sounded reluctant.

“Tell me about it.” She began writing in her notebook.

“We didn’ do nothin’ wrong,” Barry whined.

“Shut up, Bar,” Larry ordered.

“I’m waiting, fellas.” Joyce’s words were non-threatening, her tone of voice was not.

“The old Parker place,” said Larry, angrily. “A couple of guys, seemed like lawyer types t’ me, paid us good money to move some furniture around, add a few accessories, stuff like that. Had to be done by Saturday, two weeks ago. But it wasn’t nothin’ t’ get yer panties in a twist about,” he sneered.

“What kind of ‘accessories’?” She was writing quickly.

Larry stared at his brother. “Keep your mouth shut.”

Barry inched away from his twin. “Up in the master bedroom… we moved most of the furniture out so’s we could put a ring bolt in the floor against one wall. With a twelve foot length of chain and a shackle attached to it.”

Joyce did her best to retain some professionalism. “What else?” 

“We angle-ironed a kitchen table to the floor in the middle of the room and hung a meat hook from the ceiling. This was across the room from the ring in the floor.”

Joyce looked up, stunned. “A meat hook?” 

Barry hunched his shoulders. “Yeah. Had to go over to Carson City to get one strong enough.”

“And you didn’t think that was strange?” she asked.

“Strange, maybe,” Barry agreed, “but not illegal.”

She sighed and scribbled. “What else?”

Larry, clearly having decided his brother was getting all the attention, sat up straighter and puffed out his chest. “That meat hook was no small deal, missy. We had to crawl up in the attic and beef up the ceiling joists. Barry and I had to hang from it at the same time before the guys were satisfied.”

“And neither of you thought any of this was unusual enough to tell someone about?” 

“We were told they’d be hunters,” Larry went on, blandly, “checkin’ out the area. Maybe they were gonna hang a carcass or have some live critter to tie up. Nothin’s in season but you know some guys. Poachin’s more fun.” He looked around the room, playing to his audience. No one responded to his attitude though, and he turned back to the deputy, somewhat subdued. “We were told to provide supplies and food, nothin’ perishable ‘o course, for four men stayin’ a few days. What business is that of anybody’s?” 

“I’ll tell you whose business it is, you creeps,” Joyce fairly shouted. Her mother and several other townspeople crowded around. “Two Bay City detectives are probably being held in that house right now, one possibly chained to the floor and the other hanging from the ceiling.” Lurching to her feet, she ran to the phone. “Don’t let them leave!” 

*******

The phone on Wade’s desk rang and he snatched it up. “Ward here!”

When the sheriff punched the speaker button a moment later, Dobey could hear Deputy Andrew’s tense voice: “… Martin brothers, Sheriff. They did some work on the old Parker Place. Work involving a bolt in the floor and a meat hook in the ceiling. Plus chains and a shackle.”

The air in the office became charged. Spinning around, Wade looked at the large map on his wall and pointed silently to a dotted line close to the Nevada border. “Parker Road.”

A deputy stuck his head in the door. “There’s a call for Captain Dobey, Sheriff. Guy said it’s urgent. Line two.”

Charlie got up and motioned Dobey to follow him to another office. Running to the desk, he punched Line Two on the phone, picked up the receiver and handed it to Dobey. 

“Dobey!” 

“Simmons here, sir. Babcock’s on the extension. Davenport finally gave it up, Captain. Told us where Forest’s holding Starsky and Hutch!”

“Where?” Dobey hit the speaker button on the phone.

“Someplace called The Old Parker House.” 

“Davenport says it’s real close to the Nevada border,” Babcock added. “How far is that from you, Cap?”

“Too far.” Dobey remembered the sheriff’s finger on the wall map. “Too damned far.”

“Not really, Captain Dobey,” Charlie said. “The cars we have out here in the boonies are probably faster than the ones you city cops drive.”

Dobey looked at him hopefully for only a moment before speaking into the phone again. “Great work, guys! Put that sonavabitch under arrest but lose the paperwork until I get back there. And right now I really don’t care how long that takes.”

“Yes, sir, Captain,” Babcock and Simmons both replied.

Dobey hung up the phone and followed Charlie quickly back to Wade’s office. 

Wade was just getting off his phone. “We know where they are!”

“The Old Parker House,” Dobey said.

Wade looked surprised. “You got the same information?”

Dobey nodded. “My detectives called. The jerk in I.A. that’s been working with Forest’s lawyers, gave up the location.”

“Okay,” Wade looked almost happy. “Confirmed by two separate sources. We definitely know where they are!”

“We do,” Dobey agreed. “But it’s a long way away.

“About ninety miles. We’ll be there in less than an hour.” Wade grabbed his hat and hurried toward the door, Dobey and Charlie on his heels. “Hal,” he shouted, “send everybody to the intersection of the highway and Parker Road. Lights and sirens off before they get there. As I recall the house is only about two miles in.” 

He stopped at the desk where the dispatcher was getting ready to key his microphone. “Call the Highway Patrol, too, ask them for every officer in the vicinity. Tell them we need as many uniforms as we can get as fast as they can get there.” He started for the front door, but stopped and turned back. “Christ, what if they’ve got a scanner?” 

“We just have to hope they don’t,” Charlie said.

“Right!” The sheriff punched his cousin lightly on the arm. “And I thought I was the optimist.” He turned back to Hal. “Tell ‘em I said nobody puts a tire on Parker Road before I do. I don’t want some hot shot deputy or chippy thinkin’ he’s gonna be a hero. If Forest finds out we’re comin’ he’ll kill Starsky and Hutchinson. And that is not gonna happen on my watch.” He turned and headed out the door, Dobey, Charlie and every deputy in the building hurrying to keep up.

In the parking lot, one of the deputies, Al Arnold, stopped Wade before he could get in his vehicle. “Excuse me, Sheriff.”

Wade looked at the man, impatience in every line of his body. “What is it, Al? I’m really busy here.”

“I know that part of the county, Sheriff. There’s a fire road that runs behind the Parker place. Maybe some of us could sneak up there and cover the back? In case they try to run?”

“Good idea!” Wade slapped his deputy on the shoulder. “Choose your team. Just be absolutely sure nobody sees you from the house. Stay in radio contact. You don’t go in from back there until we go in from the front.”

“Got it, sir.” Deputy Arnold turned and headed toward his own car, gesturing to two other officers.

Dobey stood at the back driver’s side door of Wade’s car. Charlie was waiting by the shotgun seat door. For the first time since he’d learned the identity of the man who’d abducted his detectives, Dobey had some hope. 

*******

Hutch sat up, wiping bile from his mouth. He’d started vomiting after the third strike to his partner’s privates. He hadn’t had anything to eat since the day before, and only a little water to drink, but the nausea had struck anyway. After his stomach had been emptied he had dry heaved. Everyone except Sam, and his unconscious partner, had left the room in unconcealed disgust.

Sam keyed open the bathroom door, went inside and came out a few minutes later with a wet washcloth, a hand towel, a bucket of water and a mop. He handed the two cloths to Hutch. 

“Thanks.” Hutch wiped out his mouth with the cloth and dried the sweat from his face with the towel. He put both on the floor next to Sam, who was cleaning up Hutch’s sickness. Sam picked everything up and took it back to the bathroom, locking the door again after he came out. 

“You really love him, don’t you?” Sam spoke the words softly, with what sounded like genuine sympathy and compassion. 

“Yes,” Hutch said, before he could stop himself.

“I’ve never been loved like that in my whole life.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Jesus, man!” Sam turned his back and walked away as if Hutch had said something awful. When he reached the window, he turned around and stared at Hutch, unmistakable self-loathing in his eyes. “I’m one of the ones doin’ all this shit to you and your partner, and you feel sorry for _me_?” He shook his head. “What is _wrong_ with you?”

“You don’t want to be here, Sam. You haven’t raised a finger against either Starsky or me. You’re not one of them.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” 

“Circumstances. Why don’t you leave?”

“What?” Sam seemed completely surprised. “How could I do that?”

“When the rest are concentrated on what’s happening to Starsky, get out. You could probably walk right out of the room and they’d never notice.” Hutch could tell the thought had taken root. “If you can call someone and tell them what’s happening here, I know my partner would appreciate it.” He got back to work on the bolt not really caring whether or not Sam knew what he was doing. 

Footsteps sounded, climbing the stairs. Sam darted back to his arm chair and sat down. Hutch drew his knees to his chest and watched his partner. 

*******

Starsky woke up screaming. His throat was so raw he could barely get the ragged sound out but the agony was so great he had no choice. Forcing his eyes open, he glared his hatred at the man squatting in front of him. “Guess this… is one Bond book… they’ll never make into a movie.”

“They already did, stupid,” Wylie remarked, self-satisfied.

“Oh, that.” Starsky shook his head dismissively. “David Niven as Bond?… Gimme a break.”

Wylie whipped the racket into his testicles once again.

Starsky knew he was close to passing out but he moved his dimming vision to Hutch. Oh, God, he was so pale. And he was trembling visibly. Starsky could see it from half a room away and only semi-conscious. ‘We’ll make it, partner,’ he silently promised. ‘Dobey’s coming, I know he is. Hang on a little longer. Please, Hutch, hang on.’


	9. Chapter 9

Dobey stood next to Sheriff Wade Ward’s cruiser. They’d made the ninety miles in well under the hour predicted. The interceptor engines in these county and state vehicles were clearly capable of more than the 120 mph they were rated. Dobey had never ridden at such speeds in his life. He was still trying to get his heart rate under control and wipe the smile off his face. Wait ‘til he told Starsky.

A dozen county and CHP vehicles were clustered at the junction of the highway and the private road. Despite the circumstances Dobey was impressed by the way things had been handled up to now and he was grateful to have such competent, unquestioning help.

Wade addressed the assembled officers. “Please listen to what Captain Dobey has to say before we talk about how we’re going to handle this.” He gestured at Dobey.

“Gentlemen, and lady,” Dobey nodded at Deputy Andrews. “Two of my detectives were kidnapped night-before-last during a deliberately set forest fire. They were brought here and we’re convinced they’re being held in the house nearby.” He pointed to Parker Road. “There are four abductors led by an escaped convict named Ben Forest. He was sent to prison six years ago by my detectives for drug trafficking, kidnapping, torture, and numerous other crimes. A little over two weeks ago, a well planned operation allowed him to walk out of prison.”

The officers and deputies looked at each other. They all clearly wanted to know more about this, but knew it would have to wait.

“Starsky and Hutchinson have been in Forest’s hands for nearly forty-eight hours. I pray they’re not already dead but, if they’re not, they are probably in pretty bad shape. Forest is not one to treat his prisoners kindly.” Dobey looked at the officers surrounding him. “I want my men back. But not at the expense of any of your lives. Please do whatever your sheriff tells you, and help me get my guys out of there.” He nodded, solemnly. “Thank you.”

“We’ll do our best, Captain,” Wade said. “No talking from here on unless it cannot be avoided. Al Arnold and two others are at the back, in case any of the bad guys tries to get out that way. We’re going to creep, so that we don’t raise dust, up this road until we’re almost in sight of the house. Last minute plans at that point.” He glanced around one last time. “Mount up!”

Every officer and deputy headed for his or her vehicle. Dobey, Wade and Charlie climbed in Wade’s car. He led the way slowly up Parker Road.

*******

Hutch knew he was about to lose it. He had no idea what he was going to do but he had to stop the punishment his partner was enduring. 

Suddenly Forest pushed himself off the edge of the table. “Enough!” 

Wylie stopped in mid-stroke and looked at his boss, patently angry at being thwarted. George stepped away from Starsky’s side. Starsky’s head hung to his chest and Hutch couldn’t tell if he was conscious or not. 

“I don’t have any more time for this.” Forest sounded as if he was late for an important appointment. He gestured at Wylie. “Take the tape off his left arm.” He picked up the rubber tubing from the table and tossed it.

Wylie caught it, put it in his teeth, and took out his folding knife.

Hutch gathered his feet under him while still crouching against the wall and wrenched harder at the bolt.

Reaching into the inside breast pocket of his jacket, Forest withdrew a small zippered leather case. “This is my own formula. Pure H with a dash of Cy.” He was smiling at no one in particular.

Wylie slit the tape securing Starsky’s left wrist and elbow to the chair arm. He slit the sleeve of Starsky’s jacket and shirt, opening them to the shoulder, and tied the tubing around his bicep. Starsky began to struggle. George moved in and grabbed dark curly hair in his left hand while wrapping his right arm around Starsky’s right bicep, which was still firmly taped to the chair.

Forest took a syringe out of the case and held it up, turning to Hutch. “Last chance, Hutchinson.” He paused dramatically, menacingly. “If you don’t do what I require, your partner will die in more pain than he’s been in during the last twenty-four hours combined. I know how to drag it out, push only a little at a time.” He gloated at the thought. “Oh he’ll suffer, Hutchinson. Believe me, he’ll suffer. And you’ll watch.” He smiled as evil a smile as Hutch had ever seen. “When he’s dead it’s your turn.” He held the syringe higher. “I’ve got enough here for both of you. Since you’re so dedicated to each other you can die together.”

Hutch said nothing.

“Normally,” Forest continued, in a casual voice, “I’d have someone like Monk do this part.” He held the syringe up and pushed the plunger until fluid began to seep out of the tip. “Monk ’s long dead though, and after all those years in a cage, I want this pleasure to be strictly mine.” He took a step toward Starsky.

Hutch launched himself and tackled Forest at the same moment the chain reached its limit. The hardware came loose with a crack. Hutch rammed into Forest and carried him across the table, onto the floor on the far side. Everything that had been on the table went flying.

*******

Starsky watched through nearly closed eyelids. He knew Hutch had a plan, he always did. When his partner sprang at Forest, Starsky thrust himself, and the chair, over backward, carrying the two men holding him to the floor with him. 

*******

Dobey and the two sheriffs were spread out, about ten feet apart, cautiously approaching the silent house, still a hundred yards away. Deputies and CHP officers were arrayed behind them. All had weapons drawn and at the ready.

*******

Hutch was peripherally aware of Sam running out the door. Part of his mind registered the stumble at the top of the stairs followed by the sounds of elbows, head, knees and feet impacting treads, railing, spindles and wall, all the way down the stairs. 

Forest fought like a maniac. Hutch had to use all his former wrestling skills, knowledge of street fighting and pure desperation to keep his hands locked onto Forest’s, which were clutching the lethal syringe. Hissing and cursing, the former drug lord bit Hutch’s hand. He attempted to roll their bodies so that he’d be in the top position but Hutch managed to tangle all four legs and keep his taller frame across most of his opponent’s. He stared into Forest’s increasingly furious, vengeful gaze, measuring his tormentor’s strength and will. Hutch knew that, even in his less-than-optimal condition, his own were greater. In this final effort against Ben Forest, Hutch was determined to prevail.

*******

Before George could roll away from him, Starsky reached his free hand over his right shoulder, and grabbed the grips of Hutch’s Magnum. Without drawing it, he twisted the holster, digging the muzzle end into the side of George’s chest, and fired. 

*******

Outside, when the shot was heard, Dobey ran toward the building. 

Wade shouted into his radio, “Go, everybody, now!” He sprinted after Dobey. 

A man barreled through the front door, fell down the steps, scrambled up, and ran into their waiting arms. 

*******

Hutch flinched at the sound of his own gun. Forest bucked, trying to dislodge Hutch from on top of him but Hutch bore down and drove their clasped hands closer to the enraged face. Forest screamed when the needle of the syringe broke off against his teeth. He screamed again as Hutch leaned harder, forcing the broken needle stub through the roof of Forest’s mouth. Hutch thrust the plunger all the way down.

*******

Starsky, working purely on instinct and pain-fueled rage, dragged the heavy Magnum across his chest, needing to contact some part of Wylie’s body on his left. Feeling his torturer struggling to draw the Beretta from the jury-rigged holster, Starsky pushed the barrel of the .357 against solid flesh and pulled the trigger again. 

*******

The second shot was heard while Dobey and the others were covering the remaining yards toward the house. 

*******

Forest’s ragged shrieks mixed with the Python’s echoes. Hutch called on the last of his strength to fight Forest’s suddenly-increased thrashings. Forest opened his eyes wide, beating his heels and head on the floor, his body beginning to convulse. Wrenching his hands out of Hutch’s grasp, the empty syringe was sent flying into a corner. The hands came back quickly though, the fingers curved into claws, when Forest reached for Hutch’s face. Hutch caught and held them while Forest screamed one last time before stiffening slowly and going still. His staring eyes began to glaze and Hutch allowed the lifeless arms to fall away.

*******

Starsky could not move, couldn’t even open his eyes. In his semi-delirium he pictured a tiny cartoon Hutch hauling the monstrous Python around and nearly giggled. His admiration for his partner’s physical prowess went up several notches ‘cause the damn thing was heavy! It took every ounce of his remaining strength to pull the gun back onto his chest. 

*******

Hutch rolled off the body of Ben Forest with not the slightest twinge of regret in his mind, heart or soul. Some people deserved to die the most horrible death imaginable and he sincerely believed that Forest had been one of those.

He slumped onto his right side and spotted the overturned chair, his partner still taped to it. Wylie was stretched out at Starsky’s left, the top of his head gone. Hutch could see George, immobile, behind Starsky, who wasn’t moving. Hutch tried to get to his feet but groaned and fell when his right ankle gave way. 

*******

Starsky thought he heard movement, then a groan and fall. “Hutch?” 

*******

Shoving Wylie’s body out of the way, Hutch elbowed to where he could put a hand to Starsky’s face. “Right here, babe.” 

Downstairs, the front door crashed open and running footsteps entered the house. “Starsky! Hutchinson!” 

Dobey’s bellow was the most wonderful sound Hutch had heard in a very long time. “Up here, Cap’n,” he shouted, as loudly as he could manage.

“Cavalry,” Starsky muttered. “Tol’ ya.”

Hutch rested his forehead against Starsky’s. “Right as usual, buddy.”

Footsteps pounded up the stairs. By the time Hutch had levered himself onto his elbow, Dobey, and what looked like half the law enforcement contingent of California, burst into the room. 

“Hutch,” Starsky croaked, “don’t let anybody see me like this. Please, Hutch, don’t let ‘em --”

“Be still.” Hutch threaded his fingers into the curly hair. “You’re alive, Starsk. That is the only thing that matters.”

*******

Harold Dobey had never seen anything like the image that greeted his eyes when he ran into the upstairs bedroom. Scanning quickly, he saw Ben Forest on the floor to his right, hopefully dead. On the far side of a table, his two detectives were lying between two other bodies, both of those possibly dead as well. He couldn’t tell about Starsky yet but Hutch appeared to be alive.

Dobey holstered his weapon and approached. Walking around the table, he got a clear look at the duo and stopped in his tracks. Hutch was stretched out next to Starsky, his right ankle turned at an unnatural angle. A length of heavy chain extended from a shackle around that ankle toward Forest’s body. Hutch’s right arm was curled around his partner’s head and his left hand was untying a rubber tube from Starsky’s left arm. He tossed the tie away and uncurled his partner’s fingers from the Python. This he laid on the floor above Starsky’s head. 

“How d’ you carry that thing around, Hutch?” Starsky muttered, his voice barely audible. “Weighs a ton!”

“Protein shakes,” Hutch murmured, taking Starsky’s left hand in his. 

Tearing his attention away from their patented banter, Dobey realized that Starsky was taped to an overturned chair and naked from the waist down. Between his thighs hung the most swollen, blackened testicles Dobey had ever seen. He didn’t know it was possible for a pair of balls to be that distended and discolored. He closed his eyes, fought down nausea, and turned to Wade, who was standing beside him, looking as horrified as Dobey felt. “Please, Sheriff, keep as many people as possible out of here.”

“Right. And I’ll send for the closest ambulance.” He turned and left the room.

Dobey moved over to the men he had been afraid he’d never see again. At least, not alive. Walking between the overturned chair and the body next to it, he shoved the sprawled form out of the way, knowing he’d probably have to deal with fallout from the crime techs later, and knelt beside Starsky. “How you doin’, Starsky?”

“We kept tellin’ each other you’d find us, Cap,” Starsky managed to say. “We never gave up hope.”

“Did you bring an ambulance, sir?” Hutch asked. “Starsky needs to get to a hospital right away.”

“It’s coming,” Dobey assured them both.

Wade hurried into the room and squatted down next to Hutch. “Crawford, from the CHP, has called for the Search and Rescue helicopter in Carson City. It’ll be here in twenty minutes.”

Dobey nodded his gratitude before turning back to Starsky. “Hear that, son?” He laid his hand gently on Starsky’s shoulder. “We’ll get you to a hospital in no time.” He looked down at Starsky’s taped legs. “For now, let’s sit you up and get you out of this contraption.”

“No!” Starsky croaked. “Please… don’t. You can cut the tape, it’s awful tight. But please don’t move my legs. I don’t think I could stand any more pressure on my balls right now. Not even gravity” He grasped Hutch’s hand tighter. “Did he break ‘em, Hutch? Huh?” His eyes pleaded with his partner. 

Hutch looked beseechingly at Dobey who could only shake his head; he had no idea.

“Let me check, Starsk.” Hutch choked the words out. Starsky might not have heard the fear but Dobey did. 

Dobey had already seen enough of those damaged organs to last him a lifetime so he stayed where he was, his hand comfortingly on Starsky’s shoulder.

Hutch moved back up to his partner’s head, possible relief on his pale face, but horror in his shadowed eyes. “No, Starsk, I don’t think so.” He smiled thinly and ruffled his partner’s hair. “You’ll have quite a story to tell your grandchildren though.”

“What if they’re ruptured, Hutch? It hurts like nothing I’ve ever felt before.”

“I honestly don’t know. The books we read in pre-med didn’t cover this.” 

Dobey knew Hutch was trying to sound calm and soothing, even though he was lying there with a possible broken ankle. He must have been in agony himself but was doing his best to keep his partner from worrying. 

“They’re swollen but they’re still round. If they’d burst, I’d think… they wouldn’t be.” He looked up imploringly at Dobey.

“God, Hutch, you’re not helpin’ here.” Starsky’s voice was cracking.

“He’s right, Dave,” Dobey added. “They don’t look too bad.”

“There he goes, Hutch.” Starsky attempted a lop-sided grin. “First-naming me. I know I’m in trouble when he does that.”

Charlie came into the room, carrying blankets, and handed the pile to Wade. “Chopper’s ten minutes out.” He hurried away again.

Wade handed two of the blankets to Dobey and, after they’d loosened the bands of tape, they spread them over Starsky’s lower body, making sure they hung down to the floor. Wade crouched at Hutch’s ankle and coiled the chain, careful not to touch the swollen joint. “I don’t think we have any bolt cutters big enough to get this off, Detective.”

“That’s okay. They’ll do it at the hospital. Just make sure nobody trips over it, please.” 

Wade nodded and laid the coil near Hutch’s foot.

Charlie came back in the room carrying a crime scene kit. “Okay if I let a couple of deputies in, Wade? Captain Dobey? We should get this stuff bagged and out of the way before the rescue people get here.”

Wade looked at Dobey. Although it was technically his jurisdiction, the sheriff was obviously deferring to Dobey’s opinion since it was his detectives who were in such extremis. Dobey nodded. “Sure, Charlie,” Wade said.

Charlie went to the door and spoke softly with the officer standing there. Dean and Roger followed Charlie back inside. Dean picked up the kit and looked around. Roger made his way to the body next to Dobey, knelt, and checked for any sign of life. Dean moved across the room and reached down toward the empty syringe. 

Dobey had missed it completely but Hutch must have seen the movement in his peripheral vision. “Be careful with that!” Hutch cautioned, more harshly than probably intended.

The deputy stood up, surprised, and stepped back.

“Even with gloves on, it could be dangerous,” Hutch explained, softening his voice. “I suspect it held uncut heroin, with a little cyanide.” He looked at Dobey. “Forest called it his own formula.”

Dean knelt down again and carefully scooped the instrument into an evidence bag. He closed it and put the bag into another, heavier envelope. “Thanks, Detective.”

“The needle’s around here somewhere,” Hutch told him. “Be careful with that, too.” Hutch’s attention went immediately back to his partner. 

Dobey watched, mesmerized, while Hutch smoothed sweaty hair off Starsky’s forehead, muttering indistinguishable words. From the look on Dave’s face, those sounds were the only thing holding him together. Concentrating on his detectives, it took a few seconds before Dobey realized that Wade had nudged his shoulder. “Starsky, Hutchinson,” Dobey interrupted Hutch’s crooning, “this is Sheriff Ward of Campbell County. He and his deputies, with help from the CHP, are the ones who pulled this off.”

Hutch untangled his fingers from Starsky’s grip and reached for the sheriff’s hand. “Thank you, sir.”

Starsky tried to lift his hand but Wade patted it down gently. “Don’t try to move, Detective. Help’s on the way. I need to ask you both what exactly happened here though. You’re the only two who can tell me.”

“Sam knows,” said Hutch.

“Who?” Dobey and the sheriff asked, simultaneously.

“The guy you probably caught running out the front door just before you came in,” Hutch explained. “He saw it all.”

“Why would he cooperate?” the sheriff asked.

“Because he didn’t want to be here,” Hutch replied. “He never hurt either of us. I told him he should get away when he got a chance. Call somebody if possible. Get us some help. I think he’ll tell you everything.”

The sheriff stood up and motioned to Dean who was putting the Python in an evidence bag. “Have somebody go down and put the man in my cruiser. Don’t take the cuffs off though.”

“You got it, Sheriff.” Dean turned and left the room. 

Wade knelt back beside Dobey. “We’ve put together how you were captured and brought here but you’ll have to tell us the rest.”

“Sorry about your cabin, sir.” Starsky’s teeth were gritted so tightly Dobey was surprised he understood the words.

“Nothing to be sorry about, Starsky. The storm put the fire out and it’s just fine.” 

“That’s great, Cap’n.” Hutch sounded genuinely relieved. “Starsky and I were worried.” 

“Before the chopper gets here can you tell me what happened?” Wade asked again.

Hutch took a deep breath and tightened his grip on Starsky’s hand. He gestured toward the body behind Dobey. “That one’s George. Act One was him beating on Starsky as he hung from the meat hook.”

Dobey, both sheriffs, and Roger glanced up at the ceiling. Nobody said a word, each undoubtedly seeing his own mental images.

“Wylie,” Starsky added, huskily, tilting his head toward the body on his left, “took his turn… when George got tired.”

“Wylie’s the one who’d read Casino Royale,” Hutch said. “That was Act Two.”

Dobey listened, at turns amazed, horrified, furious and grateful, while Hutch continued to relate their torment. Starsky offered a few additions but, to Dobey, it seemed as if he was mostly trying to take his mind off his agony. Hutch rubbed his thumb across Starsky’s knuckles and kept the fingers of his other hand in his partner’s hair, massaging the scalp gently. Dobey understood what that was all about. They always needed to touch. It was probably more important right then than it had ever been.

“Forest’s dead… right, Hutch?” Starsky sounded as if he was unable to believe such good news. “You got him?”

“With his own poison, Starsk.” There was no inflection in Hutch’s voice. 

“Did I get George and Wylie?” 

Dobey looked around at Roger who was kneeling beside George, going through his pockets. The deputy glanced up at him and nodded. Dobey didn’t need to check with anybody about Wylie, who was missing a large portion of his head. He put a hand on Starsky’s shoulder, feeling shivers despite the blankets over his legs. “You did, son.”

“Don’t know how you managed it, pal,” Hutch said, not trying to conceal his pride, “I was kinda busy. But you got them both.”

“George… left the strap off… your holster, Hutch.” Starsky managed a small smile. “It’s the only thing that let me… get the gun out… and across to Wylie… before he killed me.” He laughed and immediately grimaced. The cough that followed was accompanied by a soul-searing cry. “Oh, God, Hutch, I hurt so bad.”

Hutch leaned his forehead against his partner’s, his fingers gripping the curly hair. “I know, Starsk. But hang on, okay? We’ll get you to a hospital just as soon as we can.”

Dobey perked up at the sound of a helicopter. “I hear it. Won’t be long now, Dave.” He caught Hutch’s eye. “You, too, Ken. We’ll get that ankle taken care of.”

“That’s what I heard!” Starsky croaked. “I heard it break, Hutch. When you lunged at Forest.”

Hutch hunched his shoulders, as if embarrassed. “Guess I hadn’t loosened the bolt enough.”

Charlie went out to hurry the medics along.


	10. Chapter 10

Dobey went with his detectives when they were choppered to the Trauma Center in Carson City. Wade and Charlie promised to show up the next day to take Starsky’s and Hutch’s official statements. They’d retrieve the chain, shackle and eye bolt at the same time. 

At the Carson City Medical center, Dr. Eldrich allowed Dobey into the large treatment room where Starsky and Hutch were being examined. “Can you talk some sense into Detective Hutchinson, please? He refuses to let us x-ray his ankle until he knows about all Detective Starsky’s injuries.”

“Thas gonna take a li’l time, Blondie,” Starsky slurred through the pain medication. “They gotta take lotsa pictures, do blood work, drain m’ balls…” he paused and swallowed hard. “A’ leas’ I hope they’re gonna drain ‘em. Not cut ‘em off…”

The doctor moved to Starsky’s side. “I told you, detective, we don’t believe amputation will be necessary.”

Starsky struggled to raise his eyebrows in a questioning look. “Yer sure, doc?” 

“They’re sure, Starsk,” Hutch said, from the adjoining table. “I heard the doctor tell you himself. How could you forget?”

“That’s right,” Eldrich assured Starsky. “I’ve personally never seen such… interesting looking testicles but, from preliminary examination, and after the initial draining, they’re sound. I don’t believe you have suffered any permanent damage to them.”

“Ya hear that, Blintz?” Starsky looked pleadingly at Hutch. “‘s long as m’ nuts’re okay, the rest’s nothin’ much. Stitches, tape, you’ve seen ‘em do all that t’ me before. Let ‘em take care o’ you now. Please?”

“Okay, Starsk.” 

“Wonderful!” Eldrich practically skipped toward the door. “Dr. Grady,” he motioned to an intern, “bring Detective Hutchinson to X-Ray immediately.”

Dobey walked to Hutch and put a hand on his arm. “I’ll stay with Starsky. Make sure they don’t take out anything they shouldn’t.”

“Thanks, Captain. He can’t afford to lose any more organs.”

Hutch was trundled off to X-Ray while Starsky was prepped for a second, more extensive edema-draining procedure. 

“‘s okay, Cap’n,” Starsky muttered. “Ya don’ hafta watch this time. ‘s long as I know I’m still gonna have ‘em aft… afterw… later… I’ll be okay. Go get somethin’ t’ eat… have some coffee…call Edith and the kids… relax.” He grinned very lop-sidedly. “Come back when they’re done though, okay?… I may need a lotta han’ holdin’ for a while.”

“I’ll come back, Starsky, but I draw the line at holding your hand. That’s your partner’s job.”

“Sure is, Cap.” 

Dobey went to the cafeteria and drank coffee. The food looked pretty good but he didn’t think his stomach was ready quite yet. Once Hutch was out of surgery and Starsky’s injuries had all been addressed, he’d think about eating something. He found a phone booth and placed a collect call to Edith. “We’ve got them, sweetheart. They’re alive.”

“I knew you’d do it, Harold.” He could hear the happy tears in her voice. “I just knew it.”

“It was close though.” 

“I don’t doubt that, but I’ll bet they never gave up hope.”

“No, they didn’t.”

“Where are you?”

“Carson City, Nevada. They had a helicopter available and an excellent trauma center.”

“When can you bring them home?” 

“Not for a while.”

“Are they hurt badly?” 

“Nothing they won’t get over in time.”

“My prayers have been answered then.” 

“I’m pretty sure Dr. Eldrich will want to keep them for a few days. I’m going to ask Jane Coopersmith if she’ll put them up in one of her new lodges for a week or so, after they’re released.”

“I know she’ll agree, dear, she’s such a sweet lady.” 

“There’s something you don’t know yet, Edith, but I’ll tell you about it when I get home.”

“You found them, dear, and they’re safe. That’s all you need to think about.”

“Thanks, honey. I love you.”

“Love you, too. Hurry home, the children miss you almost as much as I do.”

*******

Dobey spent the night in a lounge chair in the room where Starsky and Hutchinson slept off the effects of surgery, two days of captivity, and torture. 

In the morning, Wade and Charlie arrived after breakfast. 

“We sifted through everything in that house last night,” Wade told Starsky and Hutch, after official statements had been taken, typed up and signed. 

Dobey stood at the window, emotionally drained from hearing his detectives relate their harrowing experience again. It sounded worse the second time.

“Find anything that tied the lawyers into the deal?” Starsky asked.

Wade shook his head. “But we did discover Forest’s getaway plans.” He nodded at his cousin. “Charlie found them, actually.”

Charlie shrugged, self-consciously. “Only because I was the one who drew that particular duffle bag.”

“Just tell them, Cousin,” Wade encouraged, not unkindly. 

“Tickets,” Charlie said. “To Sao Paulo, Brazil, via Mexico City. He’d booked two seats on a private jet that left at midnight last night from Reno. One for him…” He looked at Hutch, “and one for you, Detective.”

All five men looked at each other, knowledge of just how close they’d come to losing Forest, and Hutch, hitting home.

*******

“I’ll call you guys every day,” Dobey told Starsky and Hutch. “Do what the doctor says, you hear? I don’t want any more disobeyed orders from either of you!” He tried glowering but simply couldn’t hold the expression. Hearing Wade and Charlie smothering snickers behind him, he gave up and smiled. “I’ll let you know when I’ve arranged a place for you to stay in Pine Lake.” He put up his hands to stave off an objection from Starsky. “Not my cabin. I’m sure you’d both rather be almost anywhere else but there. At least for a while.”

Starsky shared an embarrassed grin with Hutch. “I think you’re right about that, sir,” Hutch admitted.

“Gotta go, Captain,” Charlie broke in. “It’s a long way back to Wade’s shop, and then even farther to mine.”

Wade stepped to the side of Starsky’s bed and shook his hand. “I’ll have one of my deputies come and get you guys once the doc springs you.”

Charlie walked over and shook hands, too. “I’ll come and get you from Wade’s.”

Both sheriffs shook hands with Hutch. “Starsky and I will never be able to thank you enough.”

“Just doin’ our jobs, Detective,” said Charlie, happily. Wade punched him and they both grinned. 

“Sure you’d do the same for us,” Wade added.

“God forbid any of us ever has the opportunity to find out,” Dobey stated, firmly. “Take care of each other, you two,” he said to his best detectives. Opening the door for Wade and Charlie, he followed them out.

*******

From Campbell, Charlie drove Dobey back to Pine Lake, where he arranged to have the Torino flat-bed-trucked down to Merl’s. He called Babcock and Simmons from Charlie’s office, too.

“Beverly Hills cops found it, Cap’n,” Babcock said, brightly, after Dobey identified himself. “You’ll never believe where it was?”

“Slow down, Babcock. Found what? Where?”

“A safe! It was behind the towel dispenser in the men’s room of Shuster and Leslie’s offices,” said Babcock.

“It was full of evidence, Cap,” Simmons chimed in. “Copies of payments for Petersen’s mother’s treatments. Contracts between the lawyers and the Swayze and Martin brothers.”

“Receipts, invoices for chain, a meat hook and shackles, the Cayman Islands account information, vouchers, work schedules, everything to nail lids on their coffins,” Babcock provided in a smug tone.

“Passports, too, sir,” Simmons added. “Plus airline tickets to Sao Paulo, open dated.”

“Why do lawyers always insist on documenting everything?” Dobey wondered out loud.

“Listen to this, Cap’n,” Babcock continued, “Davenport’s admitted he’s been accepting money from Shuster and Leslie for months.”

“And he had his own ticket to Brazil,” said Simmons. “Open dated like all the others.”

“I guess our finding out about Forest’s escape sooner than they expected caught them all flat-footed,” Dobey mused.

“It sure did,” Babcock and Simmons said at the same time.

“Good work, guys,” Dobey told them. “I’ll be home tonight. See you both in the morning.”

He gave his heartfelt thanks to Charlie, said goodbye and, unable to put it off any longer, went to Jane Coopersmith’s. “I’m so sorry for the loss of your brother.”

“Thank you, Captain. But you have my sincere apologies for the part he played in your detectives’ ordeal. Marsha, Charlie’s dispatcher, has been keeping everyone in town updated on all the terrible goings on.” She blushed a little. “That’s probably against every regulation but this is such a small town, she knew better than to try and keep things to herself. I simply can’t believe Herman got himself involved with those people.”

“I know how persuasive Ben Forest could be, Ms. Coopersmith. Once he put his mind to bringing your brother into his plan, Herman never had a chance.”

“That’s kind of you to say, Captain.” She fought down fresh tears.

“What I need now, ma’am,” Dobey continued quickly, “is a place where Starsky and Hutch can stay once the doctor at the trauma center says they’re okay to leave. Probably in about a week. Would one of your new cabins be available?”

“Of course. They can have the closest one to the store. It even has a wheelchair ramp, if that’s necessary.”

“I doubt that it will be, but it’s good to know.”

“Marsha and I will organize food,” Jane went on, clearly getting into the spirit of helping. “Someone to sit with them, if they’d like, or just to check in on them periodically, make sure they’re okay and don’t need anything.” She grabbed a pad of paper and a pencil and began making notes. “I’m sure Dr. Jacoby will be more than happy to drop by once in a while, too, in case either of them needs bandages changed, stitches removed, things like that.”

“They’re pretty used to taking care of each other. Although they’ve never been seriously injured at the same time before. They may require a little more outside help than they think they will.”

“We’ll take good care of them, Captain,” Jane assured him. “Please don’t worry about that.”

“I’m not worried at all,” Dobey said. “Send the bill to me, Ms. Coopersmith, the department will take care of it.”

“Thank you, Captain,” she replied, clearly appreciative.

*******

“That was quite a busy few days, wasn’t it, fellas?” Dobey asked the empty interior of his car as he drove home. “Not quite what any of us expected when I told you to take some time off.” The only reply he heard was the whine of his tires on the highway, the roar of the Crown Vic’s powerful engine, and the hiss of the a/c system. “Believe me though, guys, I promise that Davenport, Shuster and Les… okay, Starsky,” he grinned, “Shyster and Loosely, will spend as many years in prison as possible.”

Miles passed under his wheels while Dobey was deep in thought. “I hope you agree with me on this,” he went on, at last, “that whatever happens to the Swayzes, the Martins, and Sam, is up to Charlie and Wade and their jurisdictions. As far as I’m concerned, they’re welcome to them!”

 

EPILOG

Starsky took the pizza box from the delivery boy, paid him, and turned back to the living room. Hutch, a crook-necked cane over his arm, came out of the kitchen carrying plates and napkins. Putting the carton down on the coffee table, Starsky went to the kitchen and came back with two bottles of beer, handing one to Hutch. Before he could open his, the doorbell rang. “Another pizza?” 

Hutch lifted a shoulder in bewilderment and shook his head.

Starsky went to the door. Opening it, he was confronted with a brown-uniformed delivery man holding a large package in his arms. He was panting, probably from the climb up the stairs. “Kenneth Hutchinson and David Starsky?” 

Starsky cast a look over his shoulder to his partner who was limping toward him, before turning back to the UPS guy. “That’s us.” 

“Good.” The package was summarily dropped to the floor inside the door. “That sucker is heavy! Sign here, please.” 

Starsky signed the presented clipboard. Unencumbered, the driver threw a jaunty salute and headed back down the stairs. Hutch helped him drag the box fully inside so that Starsky could close and lock the door. 

“Want to wait until after dinner?” Hutch asked, sounding unsure.

“Naw!” Starsky almost ran to the coffee table, picked up the pizza and the beers, heading for the kitchen. “I’ll just put these in the fridge.” When he came out Hutch had slit open the top of the package. Together they lifted up two bulky items wrapped in packing paper. Starsky tore the paper off his, knowing what he’d find: a full-body flak vest. He held it up against himself and looked at his partner. 

The look in Hutch’s eyes was one of wonder and happiness and possibly, ‘what if’. He glanced at the chest and laughed. “That one’s mine, Starsk.”

Starsky looked down and saw the name stitched across the left breast. “I’ll be damned. They did embroider our names.”

Handing the vest to Hutch, he took his own in return. Hutch put his down on a chair and helped Starsky unwrap the second vest. He lifted the two halves of the garment over Starsky’s head. They were held tightly together at the shoulders by wide bands.

“Supposed to weigh twelve pounds,” Starsky snickered. “Doesn’t feel like that much!” He wrestled with the Velcro straps on his left side while Hutch fastened the ones on the right. Starsky stepped back a pace and let his partner look at the outfit. “Okay, so they only come in black, but what do you think?”

Waiting for an appraisal, Starsky realized there was one more strap. He leaned forward, reaching between his legs, trying to catch the long one that hung down behind him. It needed to come up between his thighs and be pressed to the strip of Velcro on the protective tongue hanging over his groin. Starsky was so unaccustomed to the weight of the vest he almost over balanced and still couldn’t reach the strap. He straightened up laughing. “Need some help here, Hutch.”

Hutch had stepped back though, a look of frozen horror on his pale face. His gaze was fastened on the portion of the garment over Starsky’s crotch. 

“Hey, babe.” Starsky reached a hand toward his partner, stunned by Hutch’s expression. “What’s wrong?”

Hutch didn’t speak. Picking up his cane, he went back to the couch, sitting heavily at the far end.

Looking down at himself, Starsky suspected that Hutch had been staring, not at the dangling part of the vest, but through it, to Starsky’s recently damaged genitals. He took the vest off and laid it carefully across the chair on top of Hutch’s. Going to the kitchen, he came back with the two beers, handed one to his partner, and sat down next to him. “It’s been eight weeks, Hutch. Are you ever gonna be able to look at my crotch again?”

Hutch didn’t move or say anything. His focus was turned inward. 

“We’ll be off desk duty and back on the streets soon. I think we need to talk about this.” Hutch was silent for so long, Starsky feared he was going about things all wrong. 

“Because of me, you were nearly emasculated. Not to mention killed. Again.” The words were said so quietly Starsky had to strain to hear them.

Starsky had known Hutch was having trouble putting Forest’s abduction and torture of them, Starsky especially, behind him. He hadn’t realized it had been as crippling as this though. “I thought you’d talked all this through with your shrink, Hutch. We’ve been going separately because you said it’d be better, for both of us. But if you’re still --”

“Not his fault,” Hutch sounded defeated. “I haven’t told him a lot of it.”

Starsky scooted closer, took the bottle from Hutch’s loose fingers and put it on the table. He raised the hand to his lips and kissed the back of each knuckle, lightly but lingeringly. When he had his partner’s full attention he held the hand firmly in both of his. “Listen to me Hutch, my love, my best friend and partner for life…” He kissed Hutch on the forehead. When Hutch closed his eyes, in possible relief, or surrender, or disbelief, Starsky kissed each of the lids before moving down to the tightly closed lips. He kissed those with such sweet tenderness Hutch finally parted them, allowing Starsky’s searching tongue access. 

Starsky sat up and watched while the deep lines around his partner’s eyes and across his forehead began to smooth a little. When the crease between the eyebrows softened he hoped he was making some progress. “You are not now, nor were you ever responsible for what happened.” Starsky’s voice was gentle but brooked no argument. “Ben Forest put you through hell six years ago.” 

Hutch opened his eyes and, after a moment, met Starsky’s. 

“He got out,” Starsky continued, “and tried to do it again. Only this time it was both of us.” He kissed Hutch again, longer and more deeply, before sitting back. “Not one minute of either situation was your fault. You fought him the first time, and won. We fought him together this time, and won.” Starsky put all the love he felt for this too-easily-damaged man into his gaze before standing up. He pulled Hutch up by the hand he still held.

Picking up his cane, Hutch followed Starsky to the bedroom.

“He didn’t emasculate me, Hutch.” Starsky sat down on the bed and pulled Hutch down next to him. “Turns out he didn’t even damage me too badly.” He smiled his patented crooked grin. “But I can’t go on much longer without your touch. You can heal me completely. No one else can. I need you.”

Starsky could tell his partner still wasn’t getting it. Taking the cane and putting it on the floor, he stood up and turned around. Waiting patiently until Hutch looked up and met his eyes, he began slowly, one piece of clothing at a time, to undress. “You’ve been so far away from me since it happened,” Starsky’s voice was fraught with passion, “you’ve forgotten what we are to each other.” He caressed Hutch’s cheek. “Everything.”

Hutch swallowed and nodded.

Still holding Hutch’s eyes, Starsky stepped forward. He raised his right leg and put the foot next to Hutch’s left hip. “Always wanted to do this with my socks on,” he quipped. “Makes me feel like a porn star or something.”

The corner of Hutch’s mouth twitched and Starsky nudged his hip with the red-socked foot. The twitch became the corner of a strained smile.

Starsky lifted his engorged cock, moving it out of the way. “Look at ’em, Hutch.” Hutch squeezed his eyes shut. “Please look at them.”

Hutch opened his eyes but they were clouded, unfocused. 

Starsky knew his testicles were completely healed and showed no outward sign of the torture. They’d gotten over the ordeal. Hutch, apparently, had not. “They’re the same as they were before.” Starsky moved his right hand to the side of Hutch’s face. “No different. They’re chock full of my love for you. Love that I’m dyin’ to pump down your throat and up your most excellent ass.” Hutch remained mute. “But you have to be able to accept that, partner. You have to touch them.”

“I can’t.” The words were anguished.

Understanding came to Starsky in a flash. “You’re still seeing them all huge and purple, aren’t you?” 

Hutched shuddered and nodded.

Starsky knelt in front of his lover, his hands gripping the trembling knees. “I made you look at them, tell me they weren’t broken.” Hutch could only nod again. “And that’s what you’ve been seeing in your mind all this time.” He brushed the silky hair out of Hutch’s eyes. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize…”

The memory and attached terrors were plain on Hutch’s face. 

“I didn’t realize…” Starsky repeated, “because I never actually saw them that way myself.” He allowed a twinkle to creep into his voice. “Nobody was willing to give me a mirror.” He chuckled. “But I saw the Polaroid.”

“What?”

“Aw, come on, Hutch. You didn’t think they were gonna escape some enterprising intern’s camera, did you?” Starsky sat back on his heels and smiled at the horrified look in his partner’s eyes. “While they were doing their initial exam I heard the telltale click and slide. You were arguing with the doc about x-rays so you probably didn’t hear it.” His grin widened. “I made the guy show it to me afterward. Told him I’d have his nuts on my breakfast cereal if he didn’t.”

The corner of Hutch’s mouth twitched again, a genuine smile attempting to break through.

Starsky moved his hands soothingly along Hutch’s thighs. “The picture of my gorilla-sized garish gonads has probably been making the round of Carson City’s medical underground since the day after it was taken.” He leaned up on his knees again, his hands bracketing Hutch’s face. “And you know what? I’m kinda flattered.”

Hutch hunched his shoulders a little. “They were impressive, Starsk. No doubt about that.”

Starsky laughed, low and sexy. “Glad you agree.” He stood up and lifted his erection out of the way. “But they’re fine now,” he said, with conviction. “Of course, at the moment, they’re swollen and throbbing again, but for a whole different reason.”

Hesitantly, Hutch put his hands on Starsky’s hips, as if to steady himself. When he looked up, hope and renewed desire were alight in the adored baby blue eyes. Starsky sighed deeply and nodded.

Hutch slid off the bed and buried his face in Starsky’s groin. He threw his arms around Starsky’s thighs as if he wanted to lose himself amid the curly hair and pulsing organs.

Starsky’s knees went weak but he steeled himself to stay upright, allowing Hutch all the time he needed to come to terms with the truth of everything he’d said. He felt the first tentative touch of Hutch’s tongue on his left nut and the sensation very nearly unhinged him. He twined his fingers in his partner’s silken hair. “Hutchhhhhhhhhhhh.”

Hutch drew his head back, brought a hand around and gently cupped both balls, rolling them smoothly in his huge, comforting, encompassing palm. “Swollen, hot,” he murmured, “for me.” Hutch kissed each sphere tenderly. 

“Only for you, love,” Starsky pledged.

Hutch seemed able to ignore the bobbing shaft that nudged his forehead every time Starsky was jolted by a new passionate lick or suck or nip on his testicles. His partner was taking his own sweet time reacquainting himself with their size and properties. Starsky figured this was all well and good, but… enough was enough! Groaning, he pulled Hutch up and pushed him onto the bed. “My legs are like jelly. I can’t stand up any more.”

Hutch pulled him down on top, his loving smile finally free of guilt and remorse. 

Starsky spread himself out over as much of his partner as he could, relishing the feel of sweatpants and shirt on his bare, sensitized skin. But enough of that, too! Quickly he began removing those obstructions.

Hutch inched backward onto the bed and raised his hips, encouraging and easing Starsky’s removal of the impeding garments. 

While he was at it, Starsky shed his socks. “I’ll be a porn star next time.” He crawled onto the bed, reveling in the relaxed state of Hutch’s body. He was relieved to see his partner able to smile again, fully, gloriously, happily. God, Hutch had the most radiantly beautiful smile he’d ever seen.

Hutch raised a hand to Starsky’s face and traced the lips with his fingers. “How did I get so lucky, Starsk? What did I ever do to deserve you in my life?”

“Settle for too little?” 

“Bite your tongue.”

Starsky flung his arms around his partner in a fierce embrace, rolling them over so that Hutch was fully on top. “No, babe, that’s your job.”

*******

We sent him away  
but he got out and came back  
This time, no quarter

END


End file.
